


The Reasons Why They Don't Know Me

by morningstar115



Series: Bernicia [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Friendship, Gen, Mystery, POV Multiple, Post-Season/Series 04 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 62,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningstar115/pseuds/morningstar115
Summary: Camelot is at peace. Arthur, Merlin, and the loyal Knights of Camelot still have their hands full keeping the kingdom in line, but what's life without a little variety? But loyalties and friendships are soon put to the test when a series of events begins to reveal the deepest secrets of one of the most trusted knights of the Round Table.(Fair warning: one character's backstory is completely different from what it is in canon)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an updated/edited version of a two-part series I posted on Fanfiction.net a couple years ago. Both parts are complete; I'll add chapters as soon as they're proofread and edited.

_Why must it rain so hard?_

The teenage boy grumbled indistinctly to himself, trying to readjust the hood that kept slipping off his tangled dark hair. He peered forward through the drenching sheets as he urged his gray mare to a trot.

Just ahead of him, his father, mounted on a bay stallion, turned to give him a reassuring look. "We're almost home!" he called through the sound of the drumming raindrops.

The boy tried to smile back, but he was honestly too wet and miserable to care much about anyone's feelings but his own. Why, oh why had he wanted to join his father on this trip? If he could go back in time and change his decision.

_Two days. Two whole days in the pouring rain._ Much as he loved to travel, there were limits on what the boy felt he should tolerate.

He hated rain. And being hungry. And waking up too early. Especially waking up too early.

He glanced up briefly, hoping to see through the trees a break in the rain clouds above, but was only rewarded with a face-full of cold water. For a while after that he kept his gaze on the muddy path visible to him between his horse's ears.

So he didn't see the bandits until they were almost on top of him.

He heard his father yell his name just as he was pulled from his saddle. His mare reared and whinnied loudly as two bandits yanked the boy down and dragged him to the side of the path.

They underestimated him. Kicking one of them in the knee, he twisted violently to free himself from the clutches of the other. The sword that he often wore but rarely used except in training was out of its scabbard in an instant.

He brought down one of his attackers with a sweeping blow, red blood splashing drenching the silver blade. The other bandit took longer, but the boy had trained with a sword for almost as long as he could remember and he soon brought the thug down.

Looking up from his kills, he saw his father attempting to fight off three bandits at once. Another caught sight of the boy and raced towards him, shouting for one of his companions to follow.

The teenager dashed off a short distance through the trees, wanting to draw at least a couple of the outlaws away from his father. Though his father was an exceptionally skilled swordsman, he was not by any means invincible. Why, oh _why_ had they decided to travel alone this time? Why hadn't they brought any guards?

As he heard the men coming up behind them, he whirled, his blade flashing through the air, silver stained with red. Somehow it didn't bother him...the blood, or the fact that he'd just killed two people.

Within a few minutes, he'd killed two more.

Gasping for breath, blood oozing from a cut on his left arm, the boy sank down behind a large tree. He could no longer hear the clashing of metal on metal that had so recently been coming from where he had last seen his father. He didn't even hear the horses; they'd probably run off.

Sometime during the fight, the rain had begun to slow. A few slender tendrils of sunlight made their way down from the clouds, bathing patches of the woods in a soft golden radiance. Light struck the water droplets clinging to leaves and branches, turning them to sparkling diamonds.

It all felt surreal to the boy, who remained half-crouched behind the tree, listening intently for sounds of pursuit while at the same time feeling as if he wasn't truly present.

_I just killed four people._

He'd never killed before. Not a person...animals, yes. But that was different.

_They were trying to kill you. You had no choice._

Yes, he'd had no choice. He'd defended himself. It certainly wouldn't be the last time he'd have to…

The snapping of some twigs alerted him to the presence of someone approaching his hiding spot.

The boy reacted. 

He lunged to his feet and swung around the tree, driving his blade into the person who had come after him. It was over swiftly.

Too swiftly.

He hadn't thought about it. He'd acted completely without considering the results. Hadn't that always been a failing of his? Hadn't that always been where he'd gone wrong?

But it was too wrong this time. Far too wrong to be righted. Ever.

Because the bloodied tip of his sword was now sticking out of his own father's back.

* * *

It was hours later, miles away, before his body finally reacted. He fell down in the middle of a stony gully and threw up violently, vomiting over and over again until not even bile came up. Then he crawled into a narrow crevice nearby, shaking all over.

_Why?_

Such a tiny word that asked so much.

He only spent a few hours in the gully before he began to move again, trekking quickly through the woods. When he reached an unfamiliar path, he took it, moving farther and father away from the lands he knew. He had to get away.

The days and nights blurred together. The roads and villages all looked the same. He lied about his age and family if anyone bothered to ask. He gambled for money and drank until he couldn't remember his own name, fighting and making enemies wherever he went. Not that he needed another excuse to keep traveling.

_Farther. Farther._ He had to keep fleeing.

No matter how far he traveled, however, he couldn't forget what he'd done.

_The shouts. The blades clashing. The blood all over his sword. Blood that should not be there._

He couldn't forgive himself, either. He wouldn't.

Ever.


	2. Chapter 1

Merlin dumped another armful of chain mail into a rickety basket. He really wished that he didn't have to polish it that evening, but Arthur had ordered it all sorted out by the next morning and there'd be hell to pay if it wasn't done on time.

_As if having to clean the king's_ chamber pot _this morning wasn't bad enough…_

Merlin grumbled to himself. Arthur had been insufferable today, during the court affairs of the morning and especially during the afternoon hours of training. As usual, he'd felt the need to make Merlin his "moving target" for spear-throwing practice.

And now Merlin had to take care of all the knights' chain mail.  _Well, I suppose I could use magic for some of it…_

Merlin was startled from his private musings by Percival's hard, though friendly, slap on the shoulder. "Merlin! Just the man I was hoping to speak with!"

Rubbing his shoulder, Merlin grinned and responded, "Hello, Percival." He eyed the hulking knight. "What do you want? Do I need to polish your boots, too?"

This seemed to confuse Percival for a moment, then he laughed. "No need for that, Merlin, I got them polished this morning. Actually," he lowered his voice, glancing briefly around the mostly empty armory, "I wanted to ask you…"

"Percival!" Elyan strode up to them. "Did you ask him?"

"Ask me what?" Merlin suppressed a chuckle at the exasperated look Percival directed at Elyan.

"I was just about to ask him, Elyan…" Percival shook his head and turned back to Merlin. "You see, Merlin, Elyan and I wanted to ask you if you'd noticed anything odd about Gwaine lately?"

Merlin thought about that for a moment. To be perfectly honest, he had been so busy for the last few days that he'd hardly noticed Gwaine or what the dark-haired knight had been doing. But thinking back on it, he realized that there was another reason for that. "He  _has_  been rather…withdrawn, I guess? Why are you asking me, anyway?"

"You knew him longer than the rest of us," Percival pointed out.

"Exactly," Elyan said. "You've been his friend for longer, so we thought maybe he'd talked to you."

"Talked to me? About what?"

"That's just it," Percival replied. "He  _hasn't_  been talking much lately, which is...not Gwaine. He's been, like you said, withdrawn. He doesn't make nearly as many jokes as usual…"

"And he went to the tavern only once last week, Merlin.  _Once_. In a  _week_. I mean, this is Gwaine we're talking about! Plus he wasn't up to par in training today or yesterday." Elyan sighed. "So I guess he hasn't spoken to you?"

"No, I've barely seen him, really." Merlin frowned. "Any idea when this weird behavior started?"

The two knights considered this. "Not really…" Percival murmured finally. "Three weeks, maybe?"

"Then perhaps he's in love," Merlin suggested, though somehow he doubted that was the case.  _Wrong reaction, for him._  "I wouldn't expect him to act like this if he was, but maybe…"

Suddenly, Elyan snapped his fingers. "I've got it," he said excitedly. "The patrol a few weeks back? When the bandits attacked us? He hasn't been the same since."

Merlin recalled the incident. Arthur had decided to lead a patrol, so Merlin, naturally, had had to come along to make sure the great prat didn't get himself killed. While they were returning to Camelot, the knights had been set upon by bandits. They had been nothing but desperate thugs, really; the battle was over in a few minutes. The knights emerged victorious, and the few brigands that had not been killed had run away. A couple knights had suffered minor injuries; Gwaine had not been one of them. In fact, the worst part of the whole incident had been the heavy rainfall. Everyone in the patrol had been soaked to the skin by the time they reached Camelot. "Gwaine was already acting sort of subdued on that patrol though, wasn't he?"

"I think that was just because he doesn't like to get rain-soaked. Who does?"

"Well, whatever happened, Gwaine hasn't been himself," Percival broke in. "I'm starting to get worried about him." Elyan murmured his agreement.

Merlin looked from one knight to the other. "Have either of you tried broaching the subject with him?"

They exchanged glances. "He keeps changing the subject," Elyan explained. "Laughing it off."

"Typical Gwaine," Percival muttered.

"So we thought…"

"That I might have better luck talking to him?" The knights nodded. Merlin took a deep breath, "All right, I'll try. And I'll tell you if I find anything out. Right now I have work to do; I really don't want to push Arthur's patience considering the mood he's in." He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Do you know what Gwaine would say if he knew you two were so worried about him?"

 "Adorable mother hens." Percival and Elyan said at the same time.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when Merlin found the time to talk with Gwaine. After his conversation with Elyan and Percival, he had been occupied with his work, while also remembering the last couple weeks and reexamining what he had barely observed.

His conclusion was that something was undoubtedly wrong with Gwaine. The usually lighthearted knight had been acting like a shadow, not even playing pranks on other knights as he was wont to do. He'd seemed wearier, moving with less bounce in his step. Merlin couldn't believe that he'd missed these signs before. Gwaine was his friend; he should have noticed something was up right away.

As he wanted to be a good friend, he decided the best course of action was to try and get Gwaine to divulge what was wrong.

He found the knight in the stables, silently brushing his black horse with a distinctly preoccupied air. Merlin leaned against the stall door for a minute, watching. Gwaine didn't even seem to notice him. "I'm surprised you're not at the tavern," Merlin commented after a while.

Gwaine started, proof that he hadn't noticed the servant before. "Merlin," he said with clearly forced lightness, his face showing only a hint of his usual careless grin. "What brings you to this dark corner of the royal stables?"

_He's trying to distract me by joking around, as usual._ Merlin realized that this method was actually quite effective; he'd used it himself. Mostly on Arthur. Abruptly deciding not to delay any longer, which would undoubtedly lead to more inane jokes, he asked bluntly, "What is going on with you, Gwaine?"

The knight's shoulders tensed. Merlin noted the tension remained even as Gwaine said, "What are you talking about, Merlin?" His constant brushing of the horse's coat seemed less methodical and more nervous than before.

"You know full well what I'm talking about." When Gwaine did not respond, Merlin went on, "You're withdrawn. You haven't gone to the tavern with the other knights in days. Even I noticed that your swordsmanship has suffered from whatever is ailing you; I'm sure Arthur has as well." Then, because he was still feeling a little guilty for not discerning Gwaine's odd behavior sooner, Merlin added, "Elyan and Percival told me that you've refused to talk to them."

Gwaine sighed dramatically. "So my fellow knights are discussing my change in behavior? Have they no shame, no sense of privacy?" He laughed, but it was taut, strained laughter. "Seriously, Merlin, it's nothing. I'm just having an off week; everyone does, even Arthur. As a matter of fact, I think that you should focus your concern on the Princess, he's been in such a bad mood lately…"

Merlin cut him off. "Gwaine, I know you try very hard to never take anything seriously, but please...we're your friends, and we're worried about you. Why don't you just tell me…"

"No!" It came out loud, harsh.

Merlin jumped, startled , as the horse in the stall whinnied and shied away from his master. Never, _ever_ , had Gwaine spoken to Merlin like that.

And he wasn't finished. "For the last time Merlin, I am _fine_! Will you just leave me alone?"

Merlin locked gazes with Gwaine for a few long moments, before realizing that anything he said wouldn't change his friend's stubborn refusal. He broke eye contact, turned, and strode out of the stables, feeling nothing short of bewildered.

_What in the name of the Great Dragon is wrong with him?_

* * *

Sir Gwaine didn't want to fall asleep.

He _was_ very tired, the result of and afternoon spent training. Though he hadn't been at his best. Everyone had noticed.

_I don't deserve to be so good that they notice when I'm not._

He was tired. He wanted to escape from his disturbing thoughts. But he didn't want to sleep.

_Sleeping just brings the nightmares back._

Stupid patrol. Stupid bandits. Stupid rain. Why had it all had to happen like that? Why did it have to remind him?

_I don't like the rain._

Especially the rain in his nightmares.

That rain always turned into blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While editing this I realized something. I used to use too many adverbs. Seriously.  
> SO. MANY. ADVERBS.


	3. Chapter 2

"I don't care how busy Arthur's been keeping you, Merlin, you need to clean your room.  _Now!_ " With unusual vigor for his age, Gaius hurled a couple of Merlin's shirts and a few books on top of the young warlock, who was groaning in his bed. "And hurry up or you'll have no breakfast!" Gaius stumped out, grumbling to himself as the "idiot boy" he was riled with crawled out from under the covers. He really shouldn't have spilled that cough potion all over Gaius' bed sheets the night before. Even though he had been able to clean it up magically, it still left the old physician in a foul mood.

_Him and everyone else,_ Merlin thought to himself as he began to get dressed and tidied his room at bit. His thoughts wandered.

A week had passed since his rather unsuccessful conversation with Gwaine. Since then, the knight's behavior had improved to resemble at least a semblance of his usual, though he remained cool towards Merlin. He'd been going to the tavern again, but his actions there were not normal. The previous night, Merlin had been dragged down to the tavern on the insistence of the knights. He'd avoided the ale, but he'd watched Gwaine.

Usually, Gwaine was the life of the party down at the tavern: drinking, gambling, joking, and flirting. That night, he'd spent most of the time alone at a corner table, drinking, but with little pretense of gratification. According to Elyan, that was what he'd been doing for days...drinking until he could barely stand but with no sign of actually enjoying any of it. During the day, he joked, but rarely laughed. And when he did, his laughter sounded strained. At least he'd gotten his fighting skills up to par. 

But Gwaine's improved behavior merely increased Merlin's desire to get to the bottom of the matter.

Because to the warlock, the improvements looked like an act.

* * *

"Sire, there's been rumors of a small band of slave traders only a day's ride or so from Camelot," Sir Leon said. "I suggest that we investigate."

Arthur nodded and looked around at the assembled knights and members of the court. "I agree. Slave traders are not to be tolerated in our kingdom." He paused, considering. "I'll lead a patrol; Leon, prepare the knights. Council dismissed." As the courtiers all bowed and left, Arthur turned to Queen Guinevere. "We'll only be gone a few days at most, so you don't need to get that look on your face, Gwen."

This made his wife smile. "I know, Arthur; you're constantly running off to the far reaches of the kingdom and you always come back, usually several days late and looking sheepish." Arthur laughed.

Merlin and Gauis, standing in their usual corner, exchanged glances. "Slave traders," Merlin muttered. "They should know better than to travel this close to Camelot. And they typically turn out to be more than we bargained for."

"Doesn't that happen with everything?" Gauis asked wryly.

_He has a point._

* * *

At first, the journey was rather pleasant, in Merlin's opinion. The weather had cleared up, the air was a nice temperature and smelled agreeably of trees and flowers. Jolting up and down in the saddle all day wasn't the best sensation, but at least the conversation rarely slacked. After being cooped up in Camelot for days, the knights were pleased to be out in the woods again.

"Honestly, though, Lady Anna is far better looking than Lady Irene!" Elyan exclaimed in protest to something Percival had just said.

"I think that Percival likes Irene better because she's taller," Leon snickered. "At least he doesn't have to bend double to kiss her!"

Percival shouted, "Hey!" in objection as the other knights laughed, Arthur included. Merlin grinned cheerfully. If only things were always this easy…

But they weren't something which became very apparent a few minutes later when Arthur reined in his horse and put one hand in the air, signaling the knights to stop. "Quiet. Up ahead," he whispered.

The knights dismounted and drew their weapons. Leaving their well-trained horses on the path, they began to creep through the trees to the left.

They could all hear the sounds of a camp nearby. Merlin frowned as he followed the knights; the slave traders, if the camp was theirs, were closer to Camelot than expected.

The knights soon crested a small hill. From the top, they could look down through the trees and into the camp.

Around ten or eleven men were in the clearing below. A couple were occupied with the campfire, one was apparently keeping watch nearby, and the rest were talking in low voices a few yards from the fire. Their horses were tethered to one side, and near them…

Merlin felt a surge of fury. Next to the horses were two young boys, no older than fourteen or fifteen. They were both bound at the wrists and feet and tied to a tree for good measure. Even from a distance, Merlin could see that they were remarkably similar in appearance.  _Brothers, definitely, possibly twins?_ One was watching his captors with wide eyes, the other was slumped in his bonds. Merlin could just make out a crude, bloodstained bandage around the second boy's right arm.

"The beasts," Percival hissed. Merlin wholeheartedly agreed.

With a series of swift hand gestures, Arthur directed the knights to spread out and surround the clearing. Percival and Leon went to the left; Elyan and Gwaine went to the right. Merlin got a sinking feeling as he positioned himself closer to Arthur.  _We should have brought more knights…_

Hopefully the element of surprise would be enough. And who knew? Maybe these slave traders would surrender without a fight. Not all of them fought for and captured the slaves, right?

No such luck. The moment Arthur strode into the clearing and demanded that the rogues declare themselves and their business, they went for their weapons.

Then all hell broke loose, as usual.

The Knights of the Round Table came charging into the clearing, yelling at the top of their lungs. The clearing became a blur of clashing blades and shouting warriors.

Seeing that Arthur appeared to be handling the situation, Merlin dashed across the clearing toward the captives. On the way, he used magic to trip one of the slave traders who came at him with a mace.

Merlin turned from the groaning bandit to find the conscious boy's brown eyes fixed on him, filled with a mixture of confusion and amazement. Merlin felt a sudden lurch in his stomach.

_He saw that._

There was no time to worry about that right now, however. Snatching a dagger from a nearby pack, Merlin hastened to cut the boys loose.

While the unconscious one slumped onto the ground, the other shoved Merlin out of the way and stood, shaking the ropes from his arms and legs. Grabbing the dagger from Merlin, he charged at the slave trader Merlin had tripped, who had managed to push himself to his feet. The boy slammed into him, knocking him flat with a couple well-aimed punches and kicks. Merlin watched, frozen, as the teenager unhesitatingly stabbed the man in the heart. Without wasting any time, he jumped up, braced for another confrontation.

The knights had already dispatched the other slave traders, but the boy did not relax or lower the bloodstained knife as they approached him. "Who are you?" he snarled.

Arthur sheathed his sword and held out his hands in a reassuring gesture. "We mean you no harm. We are Knights of Camelot; we only want to help." When the boy still looked suspicious, Arthur motioned for the other knights to lower their weapons. "What's your name?" the king asked gently.

The boy glanced around the semicircle of knights, then briefly over his shoulder at Merlin. "Everard," he said. "And I don't need help. My brother does." He lowered the dagger and gestured to the other boy.

"Nice to meet you, Everard. I'm Arthur Pendragon." The boy started, in recognition of the king's name, Merlin guessed, but said nothing. Arthur continued, "Merlin is the assistant to the court physician, he can help your brother. Right, Merlin?" Merlin nodded, making sure that Everard noticed, before he turned to inspect the other boy.

Arthur sent the knights to scout the area, checking for any other foes, then joined Merlin and Everard by the injured boy's side. "What's his name?" Arthur asked.

"His name is Elwin." Everard reached out to touch his brother's shoulder. "He's my twin."

"I figured that was the case. You look so much alike."

Merlin, meanwhile, unwrapped the filthy bandage on Elwin's arm and examined the wound, a gash likely made by a sharp blade. It wasn't deep, but the flesh around it was red and inflamed. As he felt Elwin's forehead, Merlin looked up at Arthur and Everard. "He's got a mild fever," he explained. "The injury is infected, but I've got some herbs in my saddlebag that should be enough to stop it from getting worse, at least until he can get him to Gaius."

"Who's Gaius?" demanded Everard, gripping the dagger he still held with renewed force.

"The court physician." Arthur said. As the knights began to return to the clearing, the king called out, "It's too late to return to Camelot tonight. We'll dispose of the bodies and make camp here tonight. We head for the city at first light." Arthur turned back to the still-tense boy beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright." he said. "You and Elwin are safe now."

* * *

It was dark out. The only light was from the slender moon and silvery stars above and the glowing red campfire. Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Arthur were fast asleep, while Merlin was nodding off next to the still-unconscious injured boy.

Gwaine had volunteered to take first watch mainly because he couldn't sleep. He would have done that anyway; out in the woods without sufficient ale to knock himself out, he had no desire to try sleeping only to wake every hour or so plagued by nightmares. He'd considered getting a sleeping draught from Gaius, but he'd tried those before and they gave him worse hangovers than alcohol. Besides, if it knocked him out too well, it could be dangerous, especially outside the city walls. He wouldn't be able to react as fast when woken, and more often than not that meant risking severe injury or death. 

But nightmares weren't his principal concern tonight.

For at least the hundredth time, his gaze drifted from the silent forest to where Everard lay next to his brother. It had taken an hour to convince the boy to put the dagger down, and even then he refused relax or to eat or drink much of what they offered him, so great was his concern over his twin.

Gwaine couldn't stop staring at him...at  _them_. He'd suspected from the first moment he saw them. His gut had all but screamed recognition. When he'd heard their names, he'd been certain.

_Everard. Elwin._

Gwaine groaned softly. They were how old now? Thirteen…no, fourteen. He was almost sure of that. 

_Such a drunkard now that you can't count the years?_

Oh, he could count the years all right. All ten of them.

_Too damn many._

They hadn't really bothered with any more introductions; Everard was too distracted. Something Gwaine was thankful for.  _It's too much to hope that they've never heard my name before, even if they don't remember me themselves._ And how in the world did they get to Camelot with slave traders in the first place?  _Hell, Bernicia is four or five kingdoms away!_

That raised another disturbing question: If, say, they'd been traveling with someone else when they were captured by the slave traders, who had they been with? Who did the traders kill in order to get their hands on the twins?

_Was it someone I know?_

With all his being he hoped not.

Eventually, after a couple more hours of restless thoughts, Gwaine was relieved from his watch by Percival. Laying on his bedroll, Gwaine struggled to keep himself from slipping into slumber. He really didn't want any bad dreams tonight, of all nights. But it soon became a battle to keep his eyes open.

A battle he lost. 

* * *

_"Please, Gwaine, one more piggyback ride! Please!" The little boy widened his big brown eyes._

_"Everard, you said one more three rides ago!"_

_"But you said you promise to play with us_ all day _!"_

_"It's almost nightfall, you silly thing! And anyway…Ouch! Elwin, stop pulling my hair! Aldwyn, help me!"_

_An older boy, seated on a nearby bench, roared with laughter. "Oh, dear, it looks like the great warrior Gwaine has been defeated by two toddlers!"_

_"Adwyn, you stupid prat! They're_ your _brothers; get them off of me!"_

_"Aw, come on, Gwaine, you don't want to disappoint your youngest, most adorable cousins, do you?"_

_"If they're ripping out my hair, then yes, I do! Arg!"_

_But he couldn't help but laugh at the same time._

The present day Gwaine awoke to find his face suspiciously wet. 


	4. Chapter 3

Merlin made sure to enter the court physician's chambers quietly. As he'd expected, Elwin was fast asleep on a cot in the corner, with Everard slumped in a chair next to him. Gaius sat at the table, stirring up some sort of brownish potion. Sitting down across from him, Merlin asked, "How are they?"

Gaius glanced over his shoulder at the twins. "They'll be fine. Elwin's fever broke; he'll recover quickly now. Everard seemed merely exhausted."

"He didn't sleep well last night and he wouldn't spare himself today. He was too worried for his brother." Merlin watched the sleeping boys for a minute, thinking.

The journey back to Camelot had been uneventful. Elwin had woken a couple times on the way, frightened at first, but soon reassured by the presence of his twin. Everard had stayed by his side all day, refusing to let him out of his sight. Merlin couldn't help but admire his fierce devotion to his brother, but he did find Everard's stubbornness frustrating. Oh, well, perhaps now that Elwin was recovering, Everard would relax a bit. They had both been through quite an ordeal.

Merlin was pulled from his musings by Gaius saying, "Is Arthur going to speak with them? Question them about where they're from?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. He said that they ought to get some rest." Merlin half-smiled. "That I agree with."

"As do I. Everard may not by injured, but he's clearly spent himself over the last few days…or weeks. There's no way to be sure until they tell us themselves…" Gaius paused, frowning. "Did you notice their clothes, Merlin?"

Merlin shrugged. He'd been the one to fetch clean, new clothes for the boys, but he hadn't had a chance to examine their original garments. "No, not really. Why?"

"They were quite fine yet simple, rather like the clothes nobles prefer for hunting trips, but the cloth was of high quality. When you looked underneath the crusted filth, that is. What those boys must've gone through…" Gaius trailed off with a sigh.

Merlin nodded, but said with a grin, "I didn't know you were an expert on clothes, Gaius!"

The physician chuckled and cuffed Merlin lightly on the shoulder. "I'm an old man, Merlin; I've picked up more knowledge than you know!"

Merlin snorted, then asked seriously, "Do you think they're nobles?"

"It's possible." Gaius replied. "Did you notice that they look almost exactly alike, but their eyes are different colors?"

"Yeah, I did. Elwin's are grey, not brown." That had actually startled Merlin when the boy awoken the first time. "I wish they'd told us more before they decided to go to sleep…"

"Well, all we can do now is wait. What is the time? You ought to get to bed, Merlin, Arthur will want you up early tomorrow, I daresay."

Merlin nodded and stood up, but his stomach lurched as he suddenly remembered something that he'd forgotten to mention to Gaius before. "Oh, Gaius?"

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I think Everard saw me use magic."

* * *

  
Sir Gwaine slipped into his private chambers, locking the door behind him. Shrugging off his red cloak, he undid the ties of a leather pouch from his belt and tossed it on his bed. He forced himself to get cleaned up first, discarding various articles of clothing until he was in comfortable trousers and a undershirt. He also washed his hands and face, wetting his hair and brushing it roughly from his face with his fingers. Then, and only then, did he retrieve the pouch and pull out the two small objects he'd taken from the slave traders' camp.

While helping to dispose of the bodies, he'd checked the pockets of the best-dressed slave trader, probably the leader, on a hunch. And as he'd expected, he had found them.

At first glance, they were unremarkable: two small silver pendants, dragon scale-shaped, on slender chains. And on the back of each one was etched a seven-pointed star.

_Well, if you weren't sure before, you are now._ But his attempt at humor did nothing to lift the scowl from his face, or to relieve the churning in his stomach that had been there all day.

Dropping one of the baubles on the bed covers, he took off the pendant he always wore around his own neck and compared it with the one that he already held.

They were identical.

_Just as I remember._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know exactly what design is on Gwaine's pendant in the show, so I came up with something. But it's been years so I don't remember how I decided on this.


	5. Chapter 4

Merlin came out of his bedroom early the next morning to find Everard at the table, stuffing bread and chicken into his mouth at a frantic rate. Hearing Merlin's entrance, the boy whipped around, reaching for the nearest table knife and nearly choking on his food. 

Everard soon realized his mistake and, after a few moments of swallowing and coughing, his beet red face relaxed into a sheepish smile. "Sorry," he muttered.

"That's okay." Merlin looked over at Elwin; he was still asleep. Sitting down next to Everard, Merlin reflected that he might as well be certain that this boy knew about his magic before he took any drastic measures. "How's your brother?"

"He's all right. That physician went out a few minutes ago to see another patient, but Elwin was awake then and Gaius said he was okay." Everard gazed at his brother for a moment. "He wasn't really hungry, but some servant brought this for me." His gaze moved back to Merlin. "You're a servant, aren't you?"

"Manservant to King Arthur himself, yes." Merlin replied with a smile.

"Must be quite a hard job." Everard said lightly, returning his attention to what remained of his breakfast. A few moment later, he asked offhandedly, "Does your master know that you have magic?"

Merlin came close to panicking. _He knows!_

_"What if he tells Arthur?"_

_"If he noticed your magic, Merlin, why did he say nothing to the knights that evening? Or all of today when he was in their company?"_

_"He was concerned for his brother, Gaius! He didn't even bother looking after himself; what if he just forgot what he saw? And remembers it when he speaks with Arthur?"_

Merlin's face must have betrayed his thoughts, for Everard said quickly, "I'm not going to tell anyone."

The warlock took a deep breath. The safety of his secret depended on trust, and... _I don't really know this boy at all._ "I want to believe that." 

"Then why don't you?" 

Scratching his head to gain a little time, Merlin said, "It's hard…knowing whom to trust."

Everard nodded. "I understand that." He popped a handful of grapes into his mouth. After a minute of thoughtful chewing, he said, "Where I come from, they don't chop someone's head off just because he or she has magic."

Merlin, intrigued to say in the least, was about to press the boy for more information when the door burst open and Sir Gwaine stumbled in.

"Hullo, Gwaine!" Merlin said, but then he noticed how pale the knight was, how shadowed his eyes were, and how shaky he seemed on his feet. _A hangover?_  Unlikely. For one thing, Gwaine wasn't squinting against the light streaming in through the windows. He eyes were wide...a little too much so.

"Is Gaius in?" Gwaine said, voice tight. His were looking at anything and everything but Merlin and Everard.

"No, he went out; can I help?" Merlin asked anxiously.  _This isn't like him..._

"No…yes…maybe…I need a sleeping draught."

"Right _now_?" 

"No, just by tonight…" Gwaine's gaze finally came to rest...on Elwin. And he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

"Um, okay," Merlin stammered. "I'll have Gaius mix one up…he's better at that sort of thing…er, what's it for?"

"Uh…What?" Gwaine said, shaking himself and looking at Merlin instead.

"The sleeping draught. What do you need it for?"

"Sleeping, what else?" 

"I think he means; what specifically is troubling you so that you need a sleeping draught? Sleeplessness? Bad dreams?" Both Merlin and Gwaine looked at Everard. He was staring at Gwaine, his brow furrowed.

Gwaine looked away from the boy, down at the floor. "I'll come back later," he mumbled, before storming out of the room without so much as a farewell.

Merlin shook his head in, partly in disbelief, partly in worry. "Sorry about him," he said to Everard. "He's usually not that unpleasant...actually, he's normally quite agreeable…I'd better be off. Can't keep the king waiting, after all." With that, Merlin headed for the door, only to be stopped by a question from Everard.

"Merlin! Where is Gwaine from?"

Merlin turned, confused. "Um…I think told me he's from Caerleon? Why?"

Everard looked away. "It's nothing," he said. "You'd better hurry; the king, you know." He went to check on his brother.

Merlin, knowing firsthand of Arthur Pendragon's infamous impatience, hurried off to his duties, all the while wondering to himself, _What on earth is going on with Gwaine?_

He was determined to find out.

* * *

Gwaine knew that he shouldn't have walked out of the physician's chambers like he had. He knew that it would simply encourage more questions from Merlin. And to be honest, Gwaine had had about as much of everyone's questions and concerned looks as he could stand. 

He was currently trying to treat his nightmares as he would treat an illness. If he asked Gaius for a sleeping draught, the old physician wouldn't press him for details. Merlin would. Merlin would want to know the reasons behind the bad dreams, namely the memories Gwaine couldn't bring himself to face. He had barely slept the night before. Every time he closed his eyes, it seemed a nightmare would form and send him back to wakefulness. Even if he had had the chance to go to the tavern the previous evening, the dreams would have come just the same. 

They varied, the dreams. Sometimes he was in Camelot, sometimes the forest, sometimes a tavern, or cave…but the outcome of the dream was always the same. Every time, he killed someone he cared about.

And then he was left staring at the silver blade coated in red blood.

Merlin. Arthur. Guinevere. Percival, Elyan, Leon. Other knights he was friends with. Sometimes even Gaius. It didn't matter who he murdered each time; it just mattered that he did. And last night, the twins had joined the host of people he slaughtered in his dreams.

_Why?_

A question that still haunted him.

There were plenty of things he could say to reassure himself. Things including the fact that if he hadn't run all those years ago, there was every chance that Merlin, Arthur, and numerous others would all have gotten themselves killed years ago. He would have not come to Camelot and met the people who were now his friends. Also, he had been knighted by King Arthur Pendragon himself. That had to count for something, right?

_But they don't know you. Not really._

He'd lied to more than one of them. He'd also lied to himself; almost convincing himself of his false past, hoping to forget.He might be a drunk much of the time, but his long-term memory was fine. Plus the nightmares kept his memories sharp and clear. _And now the twins have shown up…_

The worst was when he had to relive the day when it had all started. The day he'd done the unforgivable.

Gwaine had no idea how he'd gotten to the stables and into his stallion's stall. But once there, he didn't want to leave. There was no one else around.

So the dark-haired knight lowered himself onto the straw-covered floor in a corner and allowed himself a few silent sobs.

* * *

Merlin had to hand it to Everard: the boy wasn't in the least intimidated by the nobles and knights of Camelot who were at the moment assembled in the Council Chamber. That, or he was very good at hiding his fear. 

Arthur started off the meeting with a couple polite inquires about Elwin's health. After receiving equally polite answers, the king said, "So, Everard, tell me. How did you and your brother run afoul of slave traders?"

Everard answered, "We were out hunting. The slave traders crept up on us, surrounded us. We were taken prisoner quickly. I believe that they wanted to sell us in the south…so south we went. We were still headed in that direction when you rescued us."

"Where are you from?" asked Queen Guinevere, concerned. "There  _is_  a lot of land north of Camelot."

Everard's customary serious expression was unexpectedly overtaken by a wide smile. "Yes, my lady, there is certainly a good deal of land north of here. Anyways," he continued, "Elwin and I are from Bernicia."

Gaius was the first to respond to that statement. "Bernicia? You're certainly a long way from home."

"I'm sorry you had to suffer at the hands of those slave traders for such a long journey," Arthur said. 

Inclining his head slightly, Everard replied, "It was hardly your doing." 

Merlin wondered where the boy had learned to speak so properly. He had a gracious yet proud air rather like Arthur himself.  _Well, like Arthur when he's being nice._

"As it is, I must thank you and your knights for rescuing my brother and I. We are deeply indebted to you."

Arthur nodded in return. "You are most welcome." Turning to the court physician, he asked, "Gaius, how much longer until Elwin is fully healed?"

"A week or two, Sire." Gaius said. "He is young and strong, but we should wait enough time to be certain." 

Arthur looked back to Everard. "Once your brother has recovered, we shall arrange for you to be escorted home."

Merlin could've sworn that the boy went a shade paler than usual. "That is not necessary, my lord," he said, voice level. 

"But we can't let you two go off on your own!" Gwen said. 

"Don't even think about arguing," Arthur said with smile. "We'll be escorting you back to your home. I insist."

Just then, Merlin saw Gwaine slip into the room, lingering in a back corner and apparently trying to blend in with the stone behind him. 

Everard was staring at the king. " _We?_ " he questioned.

"The knights and I," Arthur said. "Until then, you two will remain as honored guests."

After a moment of tense silence, Everard said politely, "As Your Majesty wishes. I thank you again on the behalf of myself and my brother."

_Is it my imagination, or did Gwaine just look terrified when Arthur said "The knights and I?"_

* * *

This tavern in the tiny village near the border wasn't the nicest one in Mercia. Or anywhere.

Seated inconspicuously at a corner table, Elen brushed a strand of golden hair from her face and emptied the last of her ale down her throat. Standing, she dropped a few coins on the table, pulled on her thick brown cloak, and hurried outside. As this was an unsavory place, she wanted to check her horse before she went to bed.

The mostly clouded sky outside was growing dark and the grass was wet from an earlier rain shower. As Elen was about to duck inside the stable doorway, she paused, managing not to give any other indication that she'd noticed the footsteps behind her.

Entering and locating her white mare amongst the other beasts, Elen walked over and stroked the animal's nose. "Hello, gorgeous," she cooed. "I brought you an apple."

The horse accepted the treat eagerly. Elen gave her one last pat before leaving the stable. When the man accosted her in the yard between the stable and the main inn building, she wasn't in the least surprised.

He was big, at least a head taller than Elen herself, and broad shouldered. He wore tattered clothing and a knife in his belt. Easily blocking her path the tavern door, he sneered, "Hello, pretty."

Elen wrinkled her nose. He was only a foot from her, and his breath was foul. "What do you want?" she snapped, though she knew already.

_It doesn't take a genius to figure it out._

That almost brought a smile to her face as the man jeered, "I've 'ad my eyes on you all evening, ya know."

"No, I didn't," she said firmly. "Now if you'll excuse me…" She made to step past him.

The man grabbed her arm, baring his rotten teeth. "No woman walks away from me!" he snarled. 

Instead of struggling, Elen stopped and faced him. She was truly smiling now.  _Fool._  " ** _W_** ** _áce_** ** _ierlic._** "

The man was thrown backwards across the yard, where he collided with a wooden post, fell to the ground, and lay still. _Not dead_ , she thought, but he'd have quite a headache when he woke.

Elen snorted as she headed back inside. But as she reentered the tavern, her smile faded as she saw a scrawny, dark-haired man, whom she had spoken to earlier, making his way towards her. She gestured for him to join her in a secluded corner. "Well?" she asked.

The man glanced around before replying, "A troupe of slave traders passed through this village a couple weeks ago. They had two boys with them, both in their teens."

Elen felt a surge of fury, but held it in check. "Where were they headed?" 

"South. No more specifics, I'm afraid, except…" the man lowered his voice even further, "The traders boasted that they had a client, a wealthy and powerful one, who was going to pay well for those particular boys."

Elen frowned as she handed her informant a pouch heavy with gold coins. "Thank you," she murmured. The man nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Elen headed for the staircase, and her room, rage boiling under her expression of forced calm. 

_"…they had a customer, a wealthy and powerful one, who was going to pay well for those particular boys."_

It been planned, not a random snatch at all. She'd have to send word to Aldwyn.

But as she entered the room she had paid for earlier, Elen smiled grimly to herself.  _Whoever wants the twins is going to regret it,_ she thought.  _Because no one messes with the Barclayns._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name "Barclayn" in this story is not intended to have any connection to a real family, place, etc.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where I introduce what is, in my opinion, one of the most random concepts I've ever put in a serious fanfic. But people on ff.net seemed to like it, so...

Merlin was plotting.

To anyone else, it would appear that he was just leaning on a stack of wooden targets, watching the knights train. But in reality, he was plotting on how to interrogate Gwaine. The knight's odd behavior had only intensified since the twins' arrival.

For the past few days, Elwin, still mostly confined to bed, had been driving both Gaius and Merlin to madness with his constant questions and comments. Then there were his tricks; forbidden to leave the physician's chambers, he'd taken to pulling any possible pranks that didn't involve him moving very far from his bed. The latest had been to slip extra pepper into Gaius and Merlin's stew.

Everard had scolded his brother for that, and Elwin had simply ducked his head and grinned sheepishly. Merlin and Gaius had gotten the impression that this sort of thing happened quite a lot, and Everard's muttered comment "…always getting into trouble…" confirmed it.

While Elwin was already showing himself to be utterly annoying...and sometimes amusing...with everyone he spoke with, Everard was managing to charm anyone he came across. He still carried himself with an proud air, but he had excellent manners and no reservations about using them.

He spent most of his time with his brother even sleeping on the floor next to Elwin's bed despite having been offered other quarters, but he also spent ample time exploring the castle and city and tagging along with the knights. He didn't ask many questions, but appeared to listen carefully. He had begun joining them on the training field. Most of the knights seemed to like having him around.  In fact, while Merlin was scheming, Everard was engaged in an enthusiastic skirmish with Sir Leon. Though he was shorter than the knight and not nearly as experienced, the boy clearly knew how to use a sword, plus his footwork was excellent. Even Merlin could see that.

But there was a knight missing from the training field. 

Merlin was convinced that the appearance of the twins had driven Gwaine into whatever seclusion he was imposing on himself. He barely left his chambers except for necessary duties and those were few. After pestering Gaius for a while, Merlin had discovered why Gwaine wanted a sleeping draught: for nightmares. About what, Gaius didn't know. Of course, this raised more questions than before. Where did these nightmares spring from? Why were they so terrible that Gwaine couldn't speak to anyone about it? How on earth were the twins involved? Why was their presence making it worse than before?

Finding the right questions to ask was one thing. Getting Gwaine to answer them would be quite another. Which was why Merlin was taking so long to formulate a plan. He'd come up with a few so far, only to discard them as mostly worthless.

_1. Take Gwaine to a tavern and get him drunk enough to talk._

The most obvious plan was probably the most impossible one at the moment. From what Merlin had heard, the so-often-drunk knight had over the last few days refused to go to the tavern whenever Percival, Elyan, or Leon had asked.

_2\. Corner him and ask him outright._

Considering how his last similar attempt had gone, Merlin wasn't eager to do it. A cornered Gwaine could be a mighty force, even if Merlin asked Percival and Elyan to help.

_3\. Blackmail him somehow._

That just wouldn't be fair; Merlin didn't ever want to do that to a friend. Plus, he couldn't really think of any good blackmail material. 

_4\. Make the other knights ask him._

Same problem as with Merlin asking straight out.

_5\. Take it to the king._

Definite betrayal, or at least that's what it would be in Gwaine's eyes. Merlin really didn't want to risk losing his friend that way…and besides, Arthur might not even take the whole business seriously. 

_6\. Try to ease into it?_

If he could catch Gwaine at a vulnerable moment…maybe...

Merlin's musings were interrupted by an outbreak of cheers on the sparring field. Looking up, Merlin saw Leon, looking rather out of breath, helping a grinning Everard up from the ground. Arthur and the knights gathered around, laughing and clapping both opponents on the shoulders. Apparently Leon had won the match, but Everard had put up a worthy fight. Merlin smiled and walked out to join them, purportedly to help with any weapon or armor malfunctions, but really to join in the fun of the moment.

He'd decide how to tackle the problem with Gwaine later.

* * *

Gwaine slipped quietly out of his chambers, hurrying down the castle halls towards the training grounds.

It was getting late, but he still wanted to practice his swordsmanship and knife throwing. By now the other knights would have left along with Everard.  _Hopefully._ He managed to get out of the castle without being seen by anyone but a couple servants. But when he stopped by the armory to get a practice sword, he turned from the rack to find Everard standing in front of him.

Gwaine jumped, but concealed his panic. "Hello, young Everard," he said as jauntily as he could manage, considering the circumstances. "How's your brother?"

He tried to keep his voice light, impersonal. But something of his very real anxiety must have seeped through, because Everard narrowed his eyes. "He's fine," the boy said stiffly, tossing his shaggy light brown hair out of his eyes.

Noting the glance Everard gave the blade in Gwaine's hand, the knight said, "Since I missed training, I thought I'd go tear up a couple practice dummies." When Everard simply stared at him for a few moments longer, he added, "How's Camelot treating you then?" His voice came out strained and unnatural, despite his best efforts. Years of practice bantering didn't serve him now, not when the past was literally coming back to haunt him.

"The people are nice enough," Everard replied evenly. "Even the Pendragon."

_The Pendragon._ It had been years since Gwaine had heard the king of Camelot referred to like that. Though back then it had been Uther, not Arthur. "King Arthur's a decent fellow."

"Hmm." Everard stepped aside, gesturing for Gwaine to leave if he wished. Relieved that the boy was giving him a way out, the knight hurried past him toward the training field.

But he froze at the door when he heard Everard ask softly, "Is that why you serve him,  _cousin_?"

By the time Gwaine managed to turn himself around, the boy had left through another doorway.

That night was the first in years during which Gwaine woke up screaming.

* * *

Most people didn't like wyverns.

Hayden couldn't see why, really. Once you got past the razor-sharp claws, the pointed teeth, the glowing red eyes, and the foul temper, they weren't that bad at all.

Then again, Hayden didn't have the last name Wyverndomitor for nothing. Wild wyverns…the ones with less intelligence then a fish…he didn't get along with those. His, now, his wyverns he could handle. Usually.

"Remind me again why I must take care of your pets while you run off to goodness knows where?" Ryle glowered at Hayden with hazel eyes barely visible behind unkempt black hair. "You do realize that they hate me, right?"

"They don't _hate_ you. Emerald is defensive, that's all." Hayden replied.

"What about that scaly baby in the bushes over there? Peridot, right?" Ryle glanced suspiciously at the cat-sized creature rolling in the grass a few feet away.

"Topaz is the baby's name; Peridot's a adolescent now, Ryle." Hayden sighed. "You've been gone a while."

"Humph. Why must I baby-sit, then? Can't you just find someone else?"

"Well, you're the only person I trust with them for long, you know…"

"I suppose I should be flattered," muttered Ryle darkly.

"….so unless you want take a little trip south again to find Elen Barclayn…"

"That's the other option? Why didn't you say so?" Ryle laughed.

"Why? So you'll watch my wyverns?" Hayden asked hopefully.

"No, I'm going after that Barclayn lass. Lord knows what she'll do if someone doesn't." Ryle made a face.

Hayden frowned. "You'll have to travel with Aldwyn, and possibly Haralda."

Ryle chuckled. "Trust me, Hay, I've faced worse than his gallivanting highness Aldwyn and her strutting highness Haralda. I think you're baby is getting bored, by the way."

Hayden raised his eyebrows at his cousin-thankfully-several-times-removed as the man strode over to his horse tethered nearby. As he swung into the saddle, Ryle called, "Where do I meet their audacious highnesses?"

"The city, of course. They'll be expecting me."

"Well, they'd better stop expecting you." Ryle turned his horse around. As he urged the beast into a gallop, he called over his shoulder, "Oh! Almost forgot! When I was down south before I may have seen G…" The wind blew away the rest of his sentence as he and his horse disappeared down the road.

Hayden sighed before calling Topaz over to him with a sharp whistle. The creature scampered over and scrambled up to drape himself over Hayden's shoulders. "That Ryle. But I hope he finds Elen...can't have her going after whoever abducted the twins by herself, can we?" He laughed as the young wyvern nuzzled his cheek. "You glad I'm not going with them, eh, little one? I wonder who he thinks he saw down south?" Hardly burdened by the weight of the animal on his shoulders, Hayden started down the road back to his house. A minute later, he halted, staring at nothing as an insane thought occurred to him.

"Why, Topaz, he couldn't have seen  _Gwaine_ , could've he?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. Wyverns. What can I say? I like them.


	7. Chapter 6

Merlin had thought that having Elwin awake but confined to the physician's chambers was bad.

But it was much worse when Elwin was allowed to move about the castle. Now there was no escaping him; he was bound to turn up anywhere at any given moment. He never stopped talking. When he wasn't asking questions, he was jabbering on about anything he happened to be thinking about, with subjects ranging from the color of Camelot's flag to what had been for dinner the night before.

Gaius may have forbidden the boy to overexert himself, but Elwin got around that by finding all the shortest routes to various parts of the castle. Often he dragged an annoyed Everard along on his forays, which included sneaking food from the kitchens.

As he was also banned from training with his brother and the knights until further notice, Elwin had that morning fashioned a makeshift slingshot and had been firing tiny clods of dirt at unsuspecting squires on the training field.

He'd been doing that just before Arthur sent Merlin off to change his clothes...the servant had been mucking out the stables earlier and hadn't had the time to change for a while; apparently Arthur's nose had been extremely offended, even outdoors. The last thing Merlin had heard as he headed back to the castle was Everard scolding Elwin roundly for hitting Sir Elyan on the back of the head with a well-aimed projectile.

"Can't you stay out of trouble for ten minutes? We're supposed to be their guests; and you're acting like a curse!"

"It didn't hurt him, right? I wouldn't want to hurt anyone…"

"Oh, really? I honestly don't think Gaius and Merlin's stomachs have yet recovered from that onslaught of pepper…"

The unfortunate part, Merlin reflected, was that nobody could stay angry with Elwin for long. Under his mischievousness, he was too good-natured to hold a serious grudge against. He was as impish as a goblin and yet as affable as a drunken Gwaine, and somehow that came across as very likable. 

_Speaking of Gwaine…_

Merlin had just reached the doorway to Gaius' chambers when he heard Gwaine's voice. He halted, listening.

"I know what you told me, Gaius, but it's not working," the knight said roughly. 

"Did you take it all? Perhaps the dosage was not sufficient..."

"Oh, hell, it was sufficient all right! I go to sleep and can't wake up, so then I'm stuck in a nightmare and can't escape, can't even rouse myself…so, yeah, Gaius, the dosage was plenty damn sufficient!"

Merlin's jaw dropped. Gwaine sounded so unlike his usual joking self that it was almost hard to believe that it was the same person.

There was silence for a while, punctuated by the sounds of movement and clanking bottles. Merlin strained his ears, but there was no talking until Gaius said, "Here. This will induce deeper sleep; hopefully that will help."

Presumably Gwaine took the remedy before mumbling, so quietly that Merlin almost didn't hear, "I'm sorry. It's just…"

"It's alright, Gwaine. Let me know if this potion helps."

"Thank you."

Realizing that the knight was about to exit the physician's chambers, Merlin ducked into a nearby doorway and waited for Gwaine to pass. Then he went back to find Gaius muttering to himself over some bubbling concoction. "Ah, Merlin," he said before sniffing. "Have you been rolling in dung?"

"Cleaning the stables. I came in to change clothes."

"Naturally. We can't have you serving the king's dinner while smelling like a troll, can we?" Gaius chuckled.

Merlin grinned briefly before asking bluntly, "What's wrong with Gwaine?"

Gaius looked up from whatever concoction he was brewing. "He suffers from nightmares, Merlin. I don't know anyone who hasn't at some point or another. It's nothing serious."

"Well, he seems to take it pretty seriously," Merlin retorted. When his mentor did not respond, Merlin, "He's been off for a while now, but he's been acting worse since the twins came to Camelot. Why is that, do you think?"

"I have no idea," Gaius replied. "Except…Merlin, did Everard ever ask you any questions about Gwaine?"

"Only where he was from. Why?"

"What did you tell him?"

 "Only what Gwaine told me....Caerleon. What did Everard ask you?"

Gaius rummaged around in a stack of books and papers for a minute before handing Merlin a scrap of parchment. Examining it, the warlock saw a rough sketch of Gwaine's silver pendant, the one he always wore. "Everard drew that," Gaius said. "Two nights ago, when the boys were moved to chambers elsewhere in the castle, I was cleaning up and found it under the cot. If there were any others, I think he may have burned them. And he's been questioning me surreptitiously about Gwaine, too, or at least he was. Until a few days ago. Then he stopped mentioning him completely." Gaius sighed. "The reason why I haven't discussed it with you yet, Merlin, is because I knew you'd start harassing Gwaine about it and as his physician I didn't think it advisable."

Merlin shook his head. "Something's really weird about this, Gaius. Gwaine's nightmares, all Everard's questions…" He paused as another thought hit him. "Wait, Everard's been with the knights a lot lately, and they've told plenty of stories about Gwaine…but he hasn't been around…"

"You know Merlin, you ought to talk to him." Gaius said after a long pause.

"Who, Gwaine or Everard?"

"Gwaine. He's your friend, isn't he?"

"But you said…"

"That's when I believed that Gwaine's nightmares and restlessness had something to do with a physical aliment. I don't believe that now."

Merlin groaned. "Gaius, I tried talking to him already. A while before the twins arrived. He just about took my head off. I suppose I could ask one of the knights…Elyan or Percival maybe…"

"But you're his oldest friend, Merlin. You know him the best."

That, Merlin thought, was only too true. So if he could get Gwaine to talk…and if it would actually help…wouldn't a few angry words from the knight be worth it?

* * *

Sir Gwaine was headed down to the stables when he collided with someone else coming around a corner.

"Ow!" they yelled as they both lost their balance. Gwaine managed to hold himself up against a wall, but the other person fell down with a disgruntled yelp on his backside.

"Sorry!" Gwaine exclaimed, hurrying forward to help the other individual up, but stopping dead when he saw who it was.

Elwin jumped to his feet easily enough without assistance, seeming cheerful despite the circumstances. "S'okay. Didn't really hurt. Just surprised me, that's all." He dusted himself off, a broad grin appearing on his face. "You're a knight, aren't you? I haven't really met you yet, I don't think. Were you one of the ones who rescued us? Most of the others call me a nuisance, but they laugh at my jokes. What's your name again?" He watched Gwaine expectantly.

Gwaine opened his mouth to reply, but then froze. Had Everard told Elwin…If not, maybe he could lie…

But Elwin was already eyeing Gwaine with more than a little curiousity. "Do I know you?" he asked.

Gwaine swallowed hard. "I was one of the knights who rescued you," he replied. "The name's Gwaine."

Elwin's reaction was immediate; his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. But he soon got himself under control and said, "Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

Gwaine shook it, feeling rather dazed. _By God, give Elwin darker hair and a few more inches of height and he'd be the spitting image of Aldwyn. Everard, too, except his eyes are brown, not grey_ … _Like their father's. Like my father's. Like mine._

Elwin started talking again. "Gaius says I shouldn't be running around and exerting myself, but if  _you_  ran into  _me_  then it surely doesn't count…"

"Elwin!" Everard had arrived. "Where on earth did you…" He stopped. " _Sir_  Gwaine." he said in an icy tone, putting extra emphasis on the  _sir_. Turning back to his brother, he scolded, "You're supposed to go to Gaius and get more medicine, remember?"

"I was. Until I ran into Sir Gwaine here…or he ran into me…or…"

Everard ignored his excuses. "Come on, I'm taking you to Gaius now." Grabbing his brother's arm, Everard began to drag his protesting twin... _"I don't need more medicine; my arm hasn't bled for days…"_...in the direction of the physician's chambers, calling over his shoulder as an afterthought, "The Pendragon has been asking around for you."

_Again, that disdainful inflection on "the Pendragon"._ Gwaine lost his temper; not an usual occurrence these days. "Don't speak of the king like that!" he shouted.

Spinning around and dragging his twin with him, Everard snarled, "Did you have to yell that? Or are you afraid that the king will try to take off E... _someone's_  head if you don't behave?"

Elwin adopted a bewildered expression, but Gwaine felt a chill as he realized exactly what Everard must be referring to...or rather, who. And he found that he couldn't answer.

After a few moments, Everard sighed and hauled his now-questioning brother away.

As the boys disappeared from his view, two thoughts, each accompanied by its own set of emotions, kept going through Gwaine's head.

One, with concern and pity:  _He's scared as hell, being stuck in Camelot._

Two, with anger and fear:  _How dare he drag my sister into this?_

* * *

As a rule, Ryle didn't like traveling with companions. Traveling in a group involved agreeing with others about what route to take, waiting for stragglers...there was always one at some point...and haggling over first watch. He much preferred to be alone.

Still, his present companions weren't all that bad. Aldwyn might be a bit of a know-it-all, but he had a decent sense of humor and more than a little skill with the crossbow and sword. 

As for Lady Cleva…Well, Ryle would have preferred to have Haralda; she was an excellent huntress and deadly with a throwing axe...but Cleva could cook better.

At the moment, the black-haired woman was stirring a pot of stew over the campfire while his royally-disobedient-highness Aldwyn sharpened his sword. Ryle leaned back against a pile of saddlebags, humming softly to himself. "Not a bad evening," he said after a while. "Where are we going again?"

"Do you ask things like that just to hear the sound of your own voice?" replied Cleva without raising her eyes from the soup. Ryle snorted.

"According to Elen's last message, she was in Mercia. Slave traders were taking Everard and Elwin south. Some special customer." Aldwyn's voice was steady, but tight with worry over his younger brothers. 

_Typical Barclayns,_ Ryle thought to himself.  _Annoying each other to no end, but if you even try to harm just one the rest will be after you sure as sunset._ He wondered, briefly, if he should tell Aldwyn who he'd seen on his last jaunt through Camelot.  _Better not,_ he decided after some more deliberation. _No need to add extra hassle to this rescue mission._

While Cleva announced that dinner was ready and divvied up the stew, Ryle thought wryly that Gwaine would probably just pull another disappearing act, anyway.

_Besides, Aldwyn and the rest would all go utterly mad if I told them that Gwaine is now a knight of Camelot._


	8. Chapter 7

It had been yet another busy day, and Merlin was more than ready to head back to Gaius' rooms for dinner.

Arthur had had Merlin running errands all morning and then had dragged him along on a short patrol around the city walls. Thankfully the king hadn't planned any official training for the knights today; Merlin thought that Gwaine had something to do with that.

The previous day, shortly after Merlin had changed his smelly clothes and returned to the training field, Gwaine had shown up. Arthur had ordered that he come join the other knights, and Gwaine hadn't taken it well. In fact, the king and the knight had started a shouting match in front of everyone else.

_"When I ask my knights to be present at training, I mean_ all  _of my knights, Sir Gwaine!"_

_"I haven't been feeling well, as I'm sure Gaius told you!"_

_"Yes, a week ago, maybe! You look fine to me now!"_

_"Should I really have to join training at all? Or have you found something wrong with my swordsmanship?"_

_"That's not the point!"_

_"You incorrigible royal!"_

_"You idiotic drunkard!"_

After they'd both shouted themselves hoarse...Gwaine's abuse growing increasingly vulgar as Arthur's insults turned into threats of banishment...the king had called an abrupt end to training as Gwaine stormed off the training field. He hadn't been seen since, which was why Merlin kept getting waylaid on his way to supper.

Leon was the first to appear. "Merlin! Have you seen Sir Gwaine?"

Merlin stopped to answer the knight. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Why?"

"No one's seen him. I'll check the armory…" Leon strode off, muttering. Merlin continued on his way, only to be halted when Percival stepped into his path.

"Have you seen Gwaine anywhere, Merlin?" the large knight asked.

"No, sorry."

"I was just headed down to the tavern and I'd thought I'd ask him if he felt up to joining me." Percival shrugged. "See you, Merlin."

"Bye." Merlin had crossed the courtyard and was almost to the staircase that led to the court physician's chambers when Elyan appeared. "Merlin! Have you seen…"

"Gwaine? No, I'm afraid not." By now, Merlin was getting worried himself. Remembering Percival's comment, he added, "Have you checked the tavern?"

"I've just come from there. He hasn't been there for a while." Elyan frowned. "If you see him, tell him we asked after him."

"Of course." Merlin's desire to fill his grumbling stomach was dulled by concern for his friend. "He hasn't been himself."

"Not at all. I'm afraid that he may have taken Arthur's banishment threats yesterday too seriously." Elyan said. "I know none of us always agree on everything...but this is getting ridiculous." 

_Yes, very much so. But speaking of threats of banishment..._ "Maybe Gwaine went to visit a tavern in an outlying village? Where no one would be looking for him?"

Elyan shook his head. "Percival checked the stables; his stallion is still there and no other horses are missing. We're worried about him, Merlin."

"Me, too." Merlin ran his hand through his hair. "All right, if no one sees him by noon tomorrow, then we go looking."

Elyan agreed, "Even Arthur will be concerned if he's missing for that long."

A couple minutes later, Merlin entered Gaius' chambers to find dinner on the table and the old physician poring over a pile of dusty parchment. He looked up when the younger man entered. "Ah! Merlin! Come here and look at this!"

At the moment Merlin only wanted his supper, but he gave the food a longing look and went to join his mentor nonetheless.

Gaius explained, "Ever since those boys said they were from Bernicia, I've been planning to research that country. I remembered that Uther wouldn't have anything to do with that kingdom and now I know why!" He tapped a page triumphantly. "It's far away, yes, but also; Bernicia is one of the few known kingdoms that has never banned magic. It has been said that sorcerers were involved in crowning its first king."

"Really?" Merlin forgot about food and bent over the papers. "What's this?" He pointed to a faded drawing that had caught his eye: a seven-pointed star above a wolf, part of a page of scribbled observations about geography and weather. 

"Royal crest of Bernicia," Gaius answered. "According to various sources, during the Great Purge, many sorcerers fled to Bernicia to escape persecution. Though there were...and likely are...harsh punishments in place for those who used magic in a way that angered the king, they were no different from the punishments inflicted on those who committed non-magic crimes."

"Of course!" Merlin exclaimed. "Everard said, 'Where I come from, they don't kill people because they have magic'. Or something like that. That's why he's keeping his mouth shut about me…"

"And doing it well," Gaius said. "That could also be why he was reluctant to agree to Arthur's plan to have the knights escort him and his brother back to Bernicia. Perhaps they have friends with magic and don't want to offend the king of Camelot…"

"...who saved their lives." Merlin finished.

They stared at each other for a moment, contemplating the possibilities, when Merlin's stomach rumbled loudly.

"Definitely time for dinner, then," Gaius chuckled. "We'll discuss this later." 

* * *

Merlin had a habit of going to see Arthur and Gwen after his own dinner, just to make sure that they had everything they needed for the night. Tonight even Arthur had seemed content, so Merlin was soon headed off to his own bed.

While passing a spot where the main hallway intersected with a smaller one, he heard a crunching noise, which he recognized as the sound of someone biting into an apple. Pausing, Merlin called down the dark corridor unlit by any torches, "Hello?"

"Merlin?"

Feeling a weight leave him, Merlin hurried a few yards down the hallway to find Gwaine, dressed in his street clothes, lounging on a low windowsill, a half-eaten apple in hand. "Gwaine! Where have you been?"

In the dim moonlight coming through the window, Merlin could tell that the knight's usual smile was again absent. "Around," he said in reply to Merlin's query. "Mostly down in the caves below the city; interesting to explore, though I got a little claustrophobic at one point…"

Merlin sat down on the other end of the stone windowsill. "We've been worried."

"Sorry about that. I just didn't think the Princess would want to see me after yesterday." Gwaine wouldn't meet Merlin's eyes. His voice sounded so flat, so tired.

"Come on, Gwaine, Arthur's just a temperamental, royal…clotpole. He'll get over it."

Gwaine laughed bitterly. "Why should he?"

"Well…" Merlin said, "Um…you're one of his best knights. He trusts you with his life."

Gwaine's next words were so soft that Merlin almost missed them. "He shouldn't."

"What?"  
Finally, Gwaine met Merlin's gaze. His eyes were shadowed. "No one should trust me. Ever."

"Why, Gwaine?"

The knight took a shaky breath. "Because I can't trust myself."

Merlin blinked. _How am I supposed to respond to that? What can I say to help?_ "Gwaine, you're one of the most trustworthy people I've met, at least when things get serious. When it comes to your friends, you would do anything to help them. You're brave…"

"Foolhardy, you mean."

"Not always. Like when you stayed behind with Gaius, when Morgana attacked Camelot. You weren't foolish then, just incredibly brave. You could've run, but you didn't."

A scoff from Gwaine told the young warlock that he wasn't helping. So Merlin allowed a few moments of silence to pass before he asked, rather aimlessly, "What is it with you an apples, Gwaine?" He didn't expect an answer; he didn't even know why he'd asked.

Gwaine glanced down at the fruit in his hand. "My childhood home was surrounded by an apple orchard. Most of them were young trees that had grown on their own, but there was this one row of old ones that had been planted intentionally that way. My sister and I used to race from one end of the row to the other; we weren't allowed to touch the ground the whole time. We only stopped doing that when I broke my arm…I think I was eleven…"

Merlin was stunned. He'd asked a pointless question and already it was getting a more open answer than any of his other inquires.

Gwaine hadn't stopped talking. "Mother shouted at us for about an hour, plus my arm really did hurt, so we stopped racing after that…but we still climbed the trees all the time." He smiled faintly. "I guess that's why I like apples so much. They remind me of home...in a way that doesn't hurt."

He went quiet again. Finally, Merlin worked up the nerve to ask, "Why are you so scared of Everard and Elwin, Gwaine?"

"The twins?" Gwaine's slight smile disappeared. Hesitantly, he said, "They…they remind me of an incident that I regret. Hell, more than regret…It's more of an event that destroyed...well, everything..." Suddenly, he closed his mouth and stood up. "Goodnight, Merlin," he said, striding away before Merlin could react.

* * *

_What the bloody hell were you thinking?_

Gwaine groaned as he threw himself, fully clothed, on his bed. What  _had_  he been thinking?

_Merlin would hate you if he knew the truth about you._

Which was why he should never have let his guard down. But he'd been alone all day, he was feeling more lost than ever, then Merlin somehow got him talking about the apple orchard at home and he and his sister climbing the trees…

_I can't let him corner me again. Lord only knows what I'll let slip._

Over the last decade, Gwaine had slowly built up a solid wall around himself, a wall of jokes, sarcasm, and yes, lies. No one was supposed to get past that exterior and see the darkness beneath. Invulnerability, or rather the freedom from caring and being cared about, had been his aim. 

Then Merlin and Arthur and those bloody knights of Camelot had to show up and get around it.

He was no longer invulnerable. He couldn't even pretend to be.

That was the real reason that he had stayed out of sight all day. Contrary to some people's beliefs, he did care about his reputation, his reputation as the jovial, lackadaisical, yet loyal Knight of the Round Table. An often-drunk womanizer in chain mail. A scoundrel in a red cloak. A oft-noble knight impervious to the opinions of others.

What he really felt like right now was a child scared of being punished.

_Blast Everard for having a gaze that goes straight through a person._

In truth, Gwaine did deserve to be punished. He knew that. Maybe if he'd stayed put that day…But he'd run. He'd slipped off without even trying to face the consequences.

_You're a murderer…_

Gwaine lurched from his bed and rummaged around to find the sleeping potion from Gaius. He hadn't slept at all last night and the bottle was full.

Ignoring the label on the potion, he drunk the entire bottle at once. Then he fell back on his bed, waiting for it to pull him into hopefully-dreamless slumber.

_You don't deserve to live._

Earlier that day, he'd found the same cavern where, according to the stories, the Great Dragon had been held captive for years and years before he escaped. Gwaine had wandered around it a bit, thinking about escape. His old defenses had so often made him feel like a prisoner in his own mind. _Why can't I escape?_

There was a sure way out. But he'd been down that road before; he was too much of a coward to face death like that.

Just like he had been too much of a coward ten years ago.

As the potion started to take effect, blurring everything and slurring his words, Gwaine found himself whispering brokenly into his pillow, "I didn't mean to, I swear…Father, I'm so sorry…"

* * *

"Gaius, please tell my brother that I am fine before he decides to throw a fit."

Merlin chuckled along with Arthur, who had come in to hear Gaius' final verdict on Elwin's injury, while Gaius simply sighed and told the wriggling boy to sit still.

Gwen had come too, and she was attempting to converse with Everard, who was being polite and trying to answer her questions while being distracted over his brother's welfare. "How do you like Camelot?"

"It's a beautiful city, my lady, and…Elwin, quit squirming, Gaius is trying to help you…sorry, Your Majesty, what was I saying?"

Gwen laughed. "You said the city was beautiful."

"What? Oh, yes, it is, and the common people seem quite happy from what I've seen and that's always a sign of…Elwin! Don't make faces at the person who's trying to help you!"

"But I want to know what's taking him so long!" Elwin whined.

Gaius completed his examination and said, "All is well. You should spend a little more time regaining your strength, but other than that you've fully recovered." Looking knowingly at Everard, Gaius added, "There truly is nothing to worry about."

Elwin jumped up and said, "See, Everard? I told you so!"

The adults all exchanged amused looks as Everard glared at his brother. Then Arthur said, "When do you advise that we leave for Bernicia? It wouldn't do for Elwin to have a relapse on the way…"

"A couple more days, perhaps, then it matters not when they travel."

"Do you still intend to go with them, Arthur?" Guinevere asked.

"It isn't really necessary for you to bother, Your Majesty." Everard put in. Gaius and Merlin exchanged glances as the boy continued, "Elwin and I could probably make it on our own…"

"Speak for yourself!" his twin said with a grimace. "I don't want to be caught by slave traders again."

"It's not a bother; I'll rest easier knowing I did everything in my power to get you two safely back to your homeland," Arthur assured them.

Judging by the expression on the boy's face, he was about to protest again. The door slamming open prevented him from doing so. 

Percival came charging in, followed closely by Sir Leon. "Gaius!" Elyan shouted from behind them, "We need your help!"

Leon spotted the king and queen and hastily inclined his head towards them. "Sire. My lady."

Percival didn't bother with pleasantries. "It's Gwaine," he said.

Elyan said, "We knocked on his door, got no answer, so we went in…"

Merlin felt a sudden lurch in his stomach. Gwaine had been so odd the night before…what if he'd gone and…"What happened?" he cried.

"You should see for yourself," Leon replied.

Arthur was already halfway out the door, pursued by Gwen and Gaius. Merlin and the knights hurried after them. Merlin glanced back to see identical expressions of confusion and worry on the faces of the twins, who remained behind in the room.

* * *

Gwaine lay on his bed, deathly pale, his breathing very shallow. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing the night before and apparently would not be roused.

"What's wrong with him?" Arthur demanded while Merlin, Gwen, and the knights looked on. Gaius had silently examined the unconscious knight for a few minutes and was now poking around on the floor for some reason. "Gaius?" 

Gaius stood up, holding a glass bottle about four inches in height. There was a small paper label attached to the neck. "I know what's wrong with him, Sire," the physician said. "Were you aware that I supplying Sir Gwaine with sleeping draughts?"

Merlin seemed to be the only one who was not surprised. "What? Why?" several people asked at once.

Gaius sighed heavily. "Nightmares. I gave this to him the day before yesterday; and judging by his condition, I think that he didn't use it that night and then drank it all last night. This preparation is not meant to be taken in such large doses. He'll be fine," there was a chorus of relieved sighs from the others, "but he'll probably have quite a hangover. I estimate that he'll waken sometime tonight. But someone should watch him at all times, just in case his body decides to reject the potion…though it's unlikely at this stage…"

Soon it was agreed that Gaius and a couple servants would take turns watching Gwaine that day. As the others left the room, Gaius signaled for Merlin to stay and when they were out of earshot, the old physician beckoned the warlock over to him. "I found these on the floor, too." He held out a hand.

In his palm were two silver dragon scale pendants. Merlin stared at them, then his gaze flickered over to where Gwaine lay. The matching pendant was visible on the knight's chest. "They're the same as his," he whispered, "Do you think that they belong to the twins?"

"Look at the back." Gaius turned the pendants over. On each was etched a seven-pointed star. Merlin stared, uncomprehending. "Gaius, what…"

"Merlin, this is the same seven-pointed star that is part of the crest of the royal family of Bernicia." Gaius  said. "If these belong to the twins, I think that we may have a pair of princes in our midst. At the very least lords. And I already checked Gwaine's; the star is on his too. Merlin, Gwaine must know the boys. That's why he's been acting so strange. They're his family."

"But that…" Merlin couldn't finish his sentence. That would almost certainly mean that Gwaine was from Bernicia. Which meant...

_That means he lied to me._


	9. Chapter 8

If someone had asked Sir Gwaine a week ago if he'd trade all the ale in Camelot for a peaceful night's sleep, he would have said yes. That's why he wanted the sleeping draughts from Gaius in the first place. Only, he'd wanted some dreamless sleep, not this bizarre haze he was stuck in.

Gwaine was bored. Not to mention unnerved.

Lovely, empty unconsciousness hadn't lasted nearly long enough before he was pulled into this peculiar foggy place. Everything around him was shrouded in gently swirling mist in various pastel shades. Above him, the fog was of a gentle blue shade, below him and to either side, delicate green, pink, and brown. All were edged with white and gray.

Gwaine had been stuck there for longer than he could remember. And he was getting very bored.

_Peaceful, this place is_. He had liked it at first; he had enjoyed wandering around in the endless fog bank. The ground...which he couldn't see because of the said fog that came up to his ankles...was solid enough, but everything else shifted around. But there was only so long a person could watch the swirling misty formations before getting restless. Plus he was having a hard time remembering how he'd gotten here in the first place.

Eventually, weary of walking, he sat down and allowed wisps of mist to shroud him. He settled back on his elbows and looked up at the bluish sky...if there even was a sky here. For some reason, it started him thinking of Merlin.

_Merlin_. The first person in Gwaine's adult life who was a friend. Clumsy yet wise. Brave yet clever. The servant to a great prince and even greater king. Funny, that. Gwaine had always thought it strange that Merlin, a sorcerer, would dare to be the manservant of a Pendragon.

Gwaine didn't often let himself think about Merlin's magic. He was afraid of letting something slip, maybe while drunk or fighting, to someone who would wish the younger man harm, like Leon or Arthur...those who truly hated magic.  _But it's so_ obvious _._

Or perhaps it had only been obvious because Gwaine had grown up around magic. Here, in this quiet, empty place that seemed to belong nowhere, he was free to contemplate that.

During their first meeting, in that tavern a short distance from Camelot's walls, Gwaine had seen Merlin throwing plates without his hands. He had thought the young, raven-haired man incredibly brave...and foolish...to use magic anywhere within Camelot's borders. So he'd introduced himself, and then managed to get himself stabbed trying to save the blond man's life. 

Gwaine had just about died of embarrassment...and disgust...when he realized that he'd rescued the Prince of Camelot. He'd had had to cover it up by saying he didn't like nobles in general, which was partially, true. He did avoid them, mainly to remain unseen by anyone who might recognize him for who he really was. But this...this had been absurd. He hated Pendragons just as much as the rest of his family did, if not more. 

If there was one thing his family did well, it was agree on whom to hate.

It was only later, after he noticed Merlin's devotion to Arthur and the prince's own honorable traits, that Gwaine realized that perhaps his father's old maxim "nobility is defined by what you do not who you are" could apply to a member of the Pendragon family as well.

The irony of the entire situation hadn't been lost on Gwaine. It just got worse when he was knighted. 

What business did Gwaine have being a knight of Camelot? Personal flaws aside, it shouldn't have been allowed. He had grown up in Bernicia, where magic was permitted. He had seen a unicorn and spoken to more than one sorcerer over the course of his childhood. He had had a friend who tamed wyverns.

And his mother was a sorceress.

That fact was perhaps the most ironic of them all. Gwaine didn't have magic...if he had he figured that it probably would have made an appearance by now...any more than his father had. His sister, now, was a different story; she'd been breaking and moving things with magic since she was a child. But still…the son of a sorceress becoming a knight of Camelot? Paradoxical.

Gwaine had always wondered where Merlin got his magic...probably his father, judging by the way he talked about him. But he was clearly adept at using it; the multiple times he'd used it in dire situations proved that. It had not gotten past Gwaine that odd things seemed to happen around Merlin when his friends were in danger. Falling branches? Almost invincible magical creatures dying suddenly and mysteriously? Immortal armies going up in smoke? Snarling wyverns backing off for no reason? That last one still confused him; he doubted even his old friend Hayden would be able to order fully-grown wild wyverns to do anything. And that bloody sword Merlin had been hauling around for a while the first time Morgana conquered Camelot... thing positively reeked of magic. And later Arthur had apparentlypulled it out of a rock? _Seriously_? Arthur might be strong, but no man was  _that_  strong...unless magic was involved.

_Unless Merlin was involved._

Was Merlin involved in everything? Probably. What was that dwarf bridge-keeper had said about Courage, Strength, and Magic? Gwaine had wondered if Arthur had been told the same thing, and if so, why didn't he pick up on the hint? Magic also explained why Merlin hadn't fallen under the spell of that Lamia girl.

Gwaine knew that Merlin's life would be in danger if Arthur ever found out, so he kept his mouth shut. As Merlin didn't seem to trust Gwaine enough to tell him; he would respect that. Hell, he'd take the secret to his grave if he had to.

Speaking of graves, was it possible that he dying now? He'd certainly never had a dream quite like this before.

Gwaine stood up, little eddies of fog stirring around him. He peered into the mists, wondering if he should try to get out. But there were no landmarks, no sense of direction. And if this was a dream, he didn't seem to have the ability to wake himself up.

He started off at a brisk walk, hoping to discover something that could get him out of this increasingly odd landscape.

Instead he almost collided with a young woman who appeared in front of him.

Skidding to a halt, Gwaine stared. Her back was turned to him; she seemed not to have heard him...that was another thing; this place was eerily silent. She wore a simple green tunic and dark brown leggings. Her golden hair was in a long, messy braid. She was muttering to herself, making the only noise in the foggy, hushed scene.

Unable to understand what she was grumbling about and wondering if she could possibly know what was going on, Gwaine cleared his throat.

The woman whipped around, her narrowed brown eyes blazing. "Who…" She froze.

She didn't need to ask who. He didn't, either.

_When did my sister turn out so gorgeous?_

"Gwaine?"

"Elen?"

They stared at each other for a while, gaping. "What the hell…" they both started to say, then stopped. Gwaine laughed as she glared at him.  _Nothing's changed there, then_ , Gwaine thought to himself. "Where are we?" 

He almost started laughing again when she rolled her eyes at him in a all-too familiar gesture. "Honestly, Gwaine, why do you always expect me to know everything?"

"Because you're older?" he offered, only half-jokingly.

She sighed. "Here we go again. Gwaine, how much older than you am I?"

Falling almost too easily back into their old routine, he replied, "Ten minutes."

She glowered at him. "Fifteen, you mean."

"Close enough," he answered with a shrug.

" _Gwaine!_ "

Gwaine had started chuckling again when a sharp pain lanced through his head. "Ow!" he yelped as his vision began to blur.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied, the pain had rapidly fading and his vision going back to normal. "So…what are you up to these days, anyhow?"  _I tdo want to know._

"You're asking  _me_?" she spluttered. When he nodded sheepishly, she grumbled, "Typical male...But if you must know, I'm supposed to be looking for the twins, but I was getting some rest…What am I thinking?  _Where on earth have you been?_ " she yelled.

Gwaine's vision was going blurry again. Shaking himself, he struggled to hold on to a thought that was just out of his reach...something about the twins…"They're in Camelot!" 

Elen stopped yelling questions at him and stared. "What?"

"Everard and Elwin, they're in Camelot!" Gwaine proclaimed triumphantly as the world fell out of focus.

"What in the name of magic are they doing…" Elen's voice and face faded rapidly into darkness as Gwaine felt the sensation of rising slowly upwards.

The next thing he saw as he opened his eyes was Gaius' concerned face hovering above him. His head began to throb again.

* * *

Merlin had been in a preoccupied state all day, causing Arthur to yell at him more usual. Nobody was in a particularly good mood that day. Leon had taken to shouting at recruits, Elyan had begged off training duty to go work at a blacksmith's forge, something he did occasionally when he was upset, and Percival was speaking less than usual, and then mostly in grunts. The queen was rather distracted throughout a long council meeting and Arthur was in a distinctly foul mood. Everard and Elwin had gone to the Lower Town and had not returned until late.

While Merlin knew that everyone was worried about Gwaine, he had the added burden of Gwaine's recently discovered lies.

_Why would Gwaine lie to me?_

It was clear that Gwaine must have taken the pendants from one of the slave traders after the twins were rescued. Anyone who knew him would link them to him, and he must not have wanted that.

_But if the twins are related to him, why is he trying to deny it? Or whatever it is he's trying to do by behaving like this…_

So Merlin had been going between concern for his friend's condition to anger for his deceitful behavior all day. And so he kept popping in to check on the still-unconscious knight. Each time, there was no change, and Merlin went away feeling worried and disgusted at the same time.

_How could he not trust me?_

As evening was falling on Camelot, Merlin entered Gwaine's chambers to find Gaius bending over the feebly stirring knight. "Gwaine, can you hear me?" the physician was asking.

"Whaaa.." Gwaine croaked his eyes fluttering open.

Gaius stood up, frowning deeply. "You overindulged in sleeping potion, Gwaine. Why on earth didn't you read the label I provided?"

The dark-haired knight groaned. "Don't know…not so loud…"

"Well, I hardly believe that this is the first time you've ever suffered a hangover, Gwaine. If you wanted one, you should have gone to the tavern."

"Go away…" moaned Gwaine.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. When you're awake enough to sit up, you will drink this preparation I made for you that should help with some of the aftereffects, but I swear if you abuse any of my medicines again…"

"How long…" Gwaine seemed determined to finish this sentence. "…how long have I been…"

"Asleep? All of last night and most of today," Gaius said. "Ah, Merlin, there you are; you can help me get this idiot upright…"

Gwaine protested as they propped him upright on his pillows and forced him to drink some evil-looking yellowish potion. He choked and coughed, but a few minutes later he was able to speak with some coherency. "Honestly, Gaius, I didn't realize…I forgot to check the label…it won't happen again…"

Gaius looked like he wanted to slap the knight, but refrained from doing so in respect for his condition. "It had better be the last time; next time you'll probably kill yourself."

This got more of a reaction than either Gaius or Merlin had expected. "I wasn't trying to!" Gwaine cried out, only to start coughing again.

"Of course not," Gaius hastily amended, exchanging a glance with Merlin. "Well, you'll survive, anyhow."

Feeling a surge of very impatience, Merlin opened his mouth to blurt out the first question that popped into his head...something along the lines with "How exactly are you related to the twins?"...but a sharp glare from Gaius stopped him. "Merlin, why don't you go see if the king needs you?"

Gwaine glanced at Merlin, his gaze worried. Merlin ignored him and stalked out of the room. Now that Gwaine was awake and recovering, Merlin had more room for anger.

_That blithering drunk and whatever secrets that he won't spill…_

Then Merlin got an idea. Gaius probably wouldn't approve...he had been taking Gwaine's side most of the time in this whole affair...but it might be a way to figure it all out.

A few minutes later, Merlin walked up to the doors of the chambers shared by Everard and Elwin and knocked firmly, noting the sound of giggles within. Elwin, he supposed. A quick "Come in!" answered his knock; that sounded like Everard.

Merlin opened the door and strode in to find Elwin laughing, hanging upside-down off the edge of his bed while his brother tossed grapes into his mouth. Everard stopped throwing the fruit when Merlin entered. "Hello! Elwin, sit up and chew those grapes properly before you choke. How can I help you, Merlin?"

"I came to bring you these." Merlin reached into his pocket and pulled out the two silver pendants which he'd been hiding since Gaius had found them in Gwaine's room. He tossed one to each boy; Everard caught his deftly, but Elwin missed and went scrambling around for his underneath the bed.

It took Everard less than a second to recognize the pendant he now held. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"One of the knights found them on the slave traders; he, uh, forgot to ask if they belonged to you." Merlin watched for a reaction.

He didn't have to, as it turned out. "Was it Sir Gwaine?"

Elwin finally got hold of his pendant and sat up looking nervous. Merlin glanced at him before asking Everard, "How did you know?"

"He has one too."

"Yes. Do you mind telling me why?"

He didn't expect the answer he got. "It isn't his."

Merlin felt a surge of relief and hope. Was it possible that Gwaine had simply got mixed up with the royal family of Bernicia at some point? It wouldn't really explain his nightmares, but it might mean that he wasn't a liar. Then Everard continued,

"It's Aldwyn's. Gwaine stole it off him the last time he visited. Before he ran away."

Now Merlin was confused. "Who's Aldwyn?"

"Our older brother." Elwin answered him, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

Everard nodded. "Gwaine is our cousin," he said. "Father's brother's son."

_Cousin?_ "He ran away? From where? When? And  _why?_ "

"Yes, he did. From home, of course. Ten years ago. And it's none of your business."

Merlin shook his head to clear it. "Okay," he said, "So if you two are fourteen, like you told us, how did you remember him well enough to know he's your cousin?"

"The pendant, of course. And if that wasn't enough…which it might not be to most people…Gwaine's not exactly a common name, is it?"

"Plus he looks like…well, our family, right?" Elwin piped up.

Merlin looked from one boy to the other. They didn't particularly look like Gwaine…no, he took that back. There were similarites; Everard's eyes were the same shade of brown and Elwin's were similar-shaped, if gray. _Possibly someone else in the family looks more like Gwaine_... "He just woke up, you know."

"After drinking an entire bottle of a potent sleeping potion?" Everard snorted. "Yeah, he'd do something like that."

Elwin was the one to explain this time. "Aldwyn talks about him a lot. They were best friends, once."

Everard looked strangely sad when Merlin looked back at him. "Aldwyn's the only one who'll talk about him anymore. With us, at least. We were only four…but I remember he used to play with us…"

"He gave us piggyback rides," Elwin said.

The brothers gazed at each other, apparently lost in memories. After a minute, Merlin asked, "Why did he run away?"

Everard looked at him with an unreadable expression. "If you want to know, ask him. It's not our place to say."

With that, he made it quite clear that Merlin was dismissed.

* * *

It was so early in the morning that most of the songbirds had yet to awaken. Dew clung to the trees and grass. The sky above was pale blue, almost grey.

_Almost the color of the sky in that bloody dream._

Elen urged her white mare into a trot. Last night's experience had shaken her. She had found a decent inn early on the evening before and had gone to bed as soon as possible...only to see her brother in a dream.

_Damn, he grew up! I wonder why we saw each other last night…_

It was called dream telepathy...unusual but not unheard of. Elen and Gwaine had conversed in their dreams before, but never in that bizarre place and not since they were children, anyway. As they had grown older, it had become increasingly difficult for Elen to read her brother's emotions. They might have been born together, but they had grown apart.

Then he'd run off…

_Pull yourself together, Elen!_ Tears had been threatening to gather in her eyes.

She had more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, what her brother had said about the twins.

_Everard and Elwin are in Camelot._

Should she trust the words of a dream? But it had been real, in its own way. That actually had been her brother. And somehow he knew the twins were in Camelot.

As for how they got there…Elen had her own theory.

_Of all the low, cowardly things a Pendragon would do…_

Elen clenched her jaw and kicked her mare into a gallop, headed southwest along the road. She had work to do.

_Arthur Pendragon, you will pay for this._


	10. Chapter 9

Merlin was just about to clear up the dishes from the king and queen's lunch when someone knocked at the door.

"Enter!" called Arthur, not taking his eyes off Guinevere. They were lingering at the table; Gwen was telling Arthur about something amusing that had happened that morning when she was in the Lower Town. Both of them looked up, however, when Gwaine walked in.

Merlin paused in his work, torn between rage and worry when he saw his friend. Gwaine was wearing his chain mail and red cloak, but not his sword. He also looked pale and shaky, possibly from his run-in with too much sleeping potion. Then again, he'd been looking rather off for weeks now, in one way or another. "Your Highnesses," he said deferentially.

_Not like Gwaine at all._

Arthur stood up. "Sir Gwaine! What can I do for you?"

"Are you all right?" Gwen said.

Gwaine wouldn't look directly at them. "I've come to apologize."

_Okay, really not like Gwaine._ Worry finally won the battle over rage. Merlin gave up the pretense of working and watched intently.

"Apologize? What for?" Gwen asked.

Arthur had drawn his own conclusions. "If it's about that fight we had over training, Gwaine, that was my fault as much as yours. I should've been a little more considerate…"

Gwaine shook his head. "I wasn't really thinking about that, but…I should be apologizing for that too. I had no right to challenge you over something like that. I forgot my place, and that being a Knight of Camelot has responsibilities as well as privileges."

Merlin's jaw dropped briefly before he disciplined it. Arthur and Gwen looked just as flabbergasted as he felt; the words coming from Gwaine's mouth would be expected from Leon or Elyan, but not from the man standing before them. And he hadn't even finished yet.

"I also must apologize for my behavior the other night. I've already told Gaius that I am sorry. As a knight, I should look after my health for the good of the kingdom, not risk it by taking a medicine without knowing the possible aftereffects. As of late I have been extremely indolent and self-centered…well, more so than usual, anyway…and for that I am truly sorry."

There was a few moments of silence, during which Gwen exchanged a bewildered look with Merlin and Arthur simply gaped at his knight. Finally, the king managed to say, "Gwaine, look, no one blames you for that sleeping draught, not really, least of all me. It was an accident, that's all. It wasn't your fault."

None of them were prepared for the pain that briefly consumed Gwaine's features before a stony mask settled over his face. "Accidents seem to happen a lot around me."

Merlin was reminded of a similar comment, spoken in a dark hall.  _"No one should trust me. Ever."_

Arthur stepped forward and placed his hand on the knight's shoulder. "Gwaine, you are one of my most trusted knights. Yes, you drink too much and you're as annoying as hell, but you're a good man."

Gwaine still wouldn't look Arthur in the eye. "I have my own opinions about that," he muttered.

Unfazed, Arthur continued. "Gaius told us that you were having nightmares, and that's why you were taking sleeping potion. It seems like a perfectly reasonable reason to take such medicines, and if you acted foolishly with one bottle, it's nothing to be unduly concerned about it. Everyone does stupid things like that at some point, and it kind of makes sense in your case because of your, ah, fondness of drink, but that aside...as for forgetting your place, well, it's not as if I haven't at times. You weren't feeling yourself. But there is no dishonor in saying sorry…I accept your apology."

"Thank you, Sire," murmured Gwaine, but his expression did not clear.

Arthur turned to Gwen with a beseeching look. The queen moved forward and inquired gently, "Gwaine, are you really all right? Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Any way we can help?"

Usually Gwen's kind inquiries broke down reluctance like a charm, but Gwaine shook his head again. "No, there's nothing, my lady. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Arthur and Gwen replied in unison as the knight bowed slightly and left the room.

When he was gone, Arthur whipped around to face his manservant. "Merlin, when's the last time Gwaine was at the tavern?"

Merlin sighed. "A while."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "And when did he start acting like a sissy?"

"Arthur!"  Guinevere said sternly.

"Gwen, I'm not talking about his apology; that's a noble gesture which I appreciate though it makes me worried about his sanity. It's  _Gwaine_ , for crying out loud! No, what I'm really talking about is how withdrawn he's been, how he's stopped drinking, and how all around hopeless he's being…Merlin, when did he start acting like this?"

"Um…remember that patrol we did on that rainy day? When the bandits attacked?"

"Yes, but that was almost a month ago! What of it?"

"That's when Gwaine started to behave differently. Elyan, Percival, and I figured it out."

Gwen looked upset. "How could we have not noticed it sooner?" she asked Arthur, "Until the recent incident I hadn't realized how odd he's been…"

Clearly frustrated, Arthur glared in the direction that Gwaine had gone. "Before you start reprimanding me, Gwen, rest assured that I'm not angry at Gwaine in the least…okay, maybe a little annoyed with his behavior…but actually I'm worried. Merlin, he's your friend as much as he is mine, if not more. Do you have any idea why he's been so… _strange_?"

Merlin opened his mouth automatically, then shut it.  _Well, Arthur, Gwaine told me once that he was a noble from Caerleon, but now I think he's related to the Bernician royalty. Oh, and Gaius and I think that the twins we rescued from slave traders are princes. And they admitted to being Gwaine's cousins. So basically Gwaine has been lying to all of us about himself because apparently he ran away from home ten years ago for reasons that I've not been informed of. Am I sure? Not at all, but Gwaine, Elwin, and Everard all have pendants with the same symbol on them...which just so happens to be on the royal crest of Bernicia. No, we're not sure because the twins are keeping their mouths shut and Gwaine hasn't told me anything personal since he started acting weird except that he used to live in an apple orchard…What? No, Arthur, I did not make this up!_

Did Merlin really want to say that to Arthur? And would Arthur believe him, especially if Gwaine decided to deny it? Not at all. "No, I'm afraid I don't, really. Except…it may have something to do with his past."  _I'll get real answers from Gwaine and then I'll decide to tell Arthur or not._

"That must be the case, that, or his heart's been broken. And I thought that wasn't possible."  

* * *

_There is something unsettling about turning a corner to find your much-younger cousin blocking your path and staring at you,_ Gwaine reflected as he walked straight into the aforesaid situation.  _Especially when he looks so furious._

"You. In there. Now." Everard pointed to an open door on his left. Gwaine glanced into the room; it looked like an empty guest chamber.

On a normal day, and with anyone else, Gwaine would have thrown a few choice comments in the teenager's direction before going on his way. But this was Everard and he was feeling oddly helpless, so he obeyed.

He felt some trepidation when Everard followed him and bolted the door shut, but instead of offering a challenge, the he dropped into a dusty seat and waited for Everard to start talking.

He didn't have to wait long. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" 

_Wow, he could rival Aunt Gerarda with that glare._ "Whatever I'm doing, it's making you angry," he said. After days, weeks, of avoiding his cousins, he should have felt some release at this confrontation, but instead, he just felt…nothing.

Everard snorted. "How can you serve a Pendragon?"

"Because he's a good man." Gwaine glanced around the room, realizing that something was missing. "Where's Elwin?"

"Endearing himself to the knights by showing off his knife-throwing skills." Distracted from his original line of conversation, Everard now looked downright disgusted. "He likes them. Likes listening to them, too, when he's not teasing the life out of them…"

"Just get on with it, will you?"

"Get on with…what?" Everard's angry glower turned into a look of bemusement.

"Telling me off. Calling me a traitor. Or a…" Gwaine couldn't bring himself to say the word  _murderer_ out loud _._

"An ass?" Everard suggested. "You have been treating Elwin and I rather badly, you know…"

" _Me_? Treating  _you_  badly? How did you come to that conclusion?" Gwaine demanded.

"You've been avoiding us, shunning us, refusing to talk to us…Just because we haven't seen you in a decade doesn't mean we're not your family."

_I don't deserve a family._ Gwaine had to take a couple breaths before he could speak again. "It's just… you and your brother grew up and I'm not sure what to make of it…I've been gone so long…"

Everard nodded, then pulled something out of his pocket. He dangled it in front of Gwaine.

_The pendant._ Automatically, Gwaine checked his own neck; his pendant was where it belonged. Heart sinking, Gwaine realized what that meant. "Merlin?"

"Yes. Elwin and I are not wearing ours. Your  _other_  friends here would need to be blind to miss the implications, and you're clearly not interested in announcing your relationship to us." The last part came out like a threat.

Gwaine stood up, a bit of hot anger entering his present emotions. " _You_  are clearly not interested in telling Arthur of your royal blood."

Everard raised his chin. "You're right. We don't. It's too dangerous. But Merlin knows we're Bernician royalty, or at least suspects. He and that physician…But he won't talk." Everard smiled, and Gwaine's stomach lurched. "I've got a secret about him…"

Before he knew what he was doing, Gwaine was on his feet and had the boy pinned against the nearest wall. "You will not," he growled, his face inches from Everard's, "under  _any_  circumstances, tell Arthur about Merlin's magic. He will be killed for it and I refuse to let that happen."

For the first time since they'd found the twins in the woods, Everard looked frightened. But also speculative. "So you know." A pause. "You trust him?" the teenager whispered, "Though you lied to him, didn't you? You're not from Caerleon."

Gwaine released his cousin and stepped back. "I trust Merlin with my life. And I do not believe that he will tell Arthur about who you…we really are." He took a deep breath before asking, "How much does Merlin know, exactly?"

"He knows that you're our cousin. He knows that the pendant you wear doesn't belong to you, that it's Aldwyn's. He knows you ran away from home."

"Does he know why?" If Merlin actually knew the reason for his self-banishment, Gwaine didn't think he could ever face the man again.

Everard shook his head. "I said it was for you to tell, not Elwin or I."

"Thanks a lot."

Everard actually laughed before he said, "I don't want to betray Merlin's secret, not really. I would never desire to give a sorcerer that isn't evil to that Pendragon for judgment. Only as a last resort."

"To save yourself?" Gwaine asked, though he knew that wasn't the case. Not with Everard.

"No. To save my brother."

_Of course. He's Barclayn through and through._ "Do you really think that Arthur would turn against you just because your father is the ruler of a kingdom that encourages the use of magic?" 

"You tell me. Would Arthur Pendragon turn against us for that?" Everard was glaring again.

Gwaine swallowed. "Uther would've. Arthur, no."

"Are you sure?" When Gwaine did not reply right away, Everard added, "What if he discovered that your sister is a sorceress? And your mother as well?"

"I don't know," Gwaine answered, feeling more helpless than ever. "I don't know anything. I guess I never did."

Everard watched him for a moment before going to the door and unbolting it. "I'd better go check on Elwin," he said. "To make sure he's not getting into trouble."

"Okay."

Everard paused before leaving the room. "We won't say anything, Gwaine. Whether or not you tell Merlin or anyone else about…about yourself…it's your choice." Their gazes met. "We  _are_  family, even though you're serving a Pendragon." 

Gwaine nodded, the smallest of smiles appearing on his face. "Barclayns, right?"

Everard responded with a smile of his own before departing to find his brother.

* * *

"We're lost," Ryle stated, for at least the twentieth time.

"We are not lost, just…misdirected," Aldwyn countered, patting the neck of his grey stallion.

"Admit, it, Your Impossibleness, we're lost. We weren't lost while we were sneaking through Rheged, we weren't lost when were prancing through Deira, we weren't lost while skirting The Perilous Lands, but we must have gotten Mercia and Escetir mixed up because we are lost now!"

A couple weeks of traveling with Ryle had evidently frayed Aldwyn's nerves; he called the other man something unrepeatable, only to be answered with an equally vulgar comment, which soon escalated into a loud shouting match.

Lady Cleva sighed and urged her bay mare forward at a walk, putting some distance between her and the arguing men. They'd follow soon enough; this had happened a couple times already.

_Why did I agree to this?_

She knew the reason. Actually, there were two. One, Haralda had caught a very bad cold and had had to stay behind, so she'd asked Cleva to go in her place. As a good friend, Cleva had said yes. Two, Cleva was as fond of the twins Everard and Elwin as anyone else in the court, and the thought of them enslaved made her blood boil.

_I may have been born in Caerleon, but my loyalties most definitely lay with the Barclayns._

 

* * *

Elen was not stupid. She knew better than to go bursting into Camelot with a bang. That never seemed to work out for anybody, as far as she knew. And a well-dressed woman with a fine steed might go without much question while merely passing through a small town, but lurking around in a large city? That would be the height of stupidity.

So Elen had turned herself into a peasant.

Her fine, comfortable traveling trousers and tunic discarded and safely hidden, she now wore a light blue dress made of a coarse material. Her cloak was of thick brown cloth, and her golden hair was mostly hidden beneath a grey headscarf. Now she was just a commoner, beneath notice. She didn't like having to leave her horse boarded at a small inn, but she had given the innkeeper quite a nice payoff. She would walk into Camelot.

_No one takes particular note of a young woman looking for a maid's job in the castle. Arthur Pendragon won't know what hit him._

She'd get her cousins back without having to enlist Aldwyn and whoever he'd brought along with him and kill that filthy Pendragon at the same time.

_What can possibly go wrong?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I wrote this story today, there are many things I would do differently. As it is, I don't have the time to do a full rewrite. I guess I'll just fix what I can with smaller edits.


	11. Chapter 10

"How's Gwaine? I haven't seen him recently." Gaius said to Merlin over breakfast.

Merlin considered that question. Four days after Gwaine's apology to Arthur, the knight's mood had…shifted, somewhat. Merlin didn't know quite what to make of it. "Well, he's…better. Sort of. He's going to training and performing his duties…and if you haven't seen him I assume that he's stopped getting sleeping draughts. But he's definitely avoiding me. And he still isn't laughing as much." Merlin swallowed another spoonful of porridge. "Oh, and he's still not going to the tavern."

"You're going to have to talk to him sometime, Merlin. I would very much like to know exactly how Gwaine and the twins fit into the royal family tree of Bernicia."

"Gaius, we're not even sure if they are royalty. Even if they are, it's not like they're going to admit it…Everard has been deliberately avoiding questions about his family while Gwaine's been lying about it for years…And every time someone gets close to the subject with Elwin his brother materializes and all but clamps his mouth shut. Honestly, even Arthur's beginning to wonder, for all he's such a clotpole…"

" _Merlin_." Gaius sighed. "Perhaps you should try questioning the boys first. Maybe you'll have more luck."

"With Elwin, maybe. If I can just get rid of his brother for a few hours…" Merlin grumbled.

"Well, if you do decide to ask any of them, you'd better do it soon. Everard and Elwin won't be staying here forever and if Gwaine is truly related to them, who knows what he'll do if he helps escort them back to Bernicia."

The issue of when Everard and Elwin were going home came up that afternoon. Whilst most of the knights and Elwin were down at the training field, Everard asked for a audience with the king and queen, which was granted. The first thing he said after formally greeting their majesties was, "My brother and I want to go home."

This was not  altogether unexpected. The twins had been in Camelot for a few weeks now; naturally they wanted to go home. Arthur responded with, "Of course. I'll organize an escort and we'll be off within the next couple of days, if you'd like. The good weather should hold and I'm not expecting any important court matters to come up."

By the look on Everard's face, Merlin recognized that he had given up telling the king that his royal presence in the escort wasn't needed. Instead, Everard said, "It shouldn't be a large group by any means. Bernicia isn't…is not on very good terms with Rheged lately and from what I've heard, the ruler of Northumbria isn't very keen on having knights from Camelot riding through his lands, either." This was true; the new Lord of Northumbria didn't like Arthur very well.

"Certainly. I'll bring only a few trusted knights." Arthur looked around at the few council members that still remained in the council chamber. "If there's no more urgent business to attend to today, I will go and join my knights in training. Everard, would you care to accompany me?"

* * *

Even Arthur looked impressed and applauded when Elwin threw six knives, one after the other, into the bull's-eye of the target. The knights cheered as well, even though they'd seen this display before. Merlin watched in amusement as Percival clapped Elwin on the shoulder so hard that the unsuspecting boy tripped and nearly fell into a knife rack. In the laughter that followed, however, Merlin realized that someone was absent. "Where did Everard go?"

The knights looked around, and a moment later Leon said, "Gwaine was here a bit ago; where'd he slip off to?"

A couple minutes later, they found the two missing persons...locked in fierce combat in the middle of the sword-fighting area. Merlin and his friends joined the circle of junior knights and squires who were already watching the fight.  _It's certainly something to see._

People tended to take note of Gwaine's unique fighting style. Many of the moves he regularly used had been unfamiliar to the knights of Camelot before he had joined their ranks. But from what Merlin could tell, Everard fought like Gwaine did. Merlin hadn't really noticed it when he's seen Everard spar with the other knights, but it clearly showed when the boy battled Gwaine. The others looked on as the two jabbed and parried and sidestepped without a pause. Neither showed any sign of flagging for some time. Finally, Gwaine fell back, only to lunge forward an instant later and perform his typical disarming maneuver.

Everard blocked it. Like he'd practiced it.

More than that, he took advantage of Gwaine's obvious surprise. With a few swift slashes, he knocked the blade out of the knight's hands and sent the older man stumbling and falling onto his back. Everard followed up by stepping over Gwaine and pointing the blade at his chest.

The knights began to clap and cheer, but Merlin was to preoccupied watching Gwaine and Everard remain in their current positions as they exchanged a few words, their expressions solemn. Then Everard tossed his weapon aside and held out a hand to help Gwaine to his feet. Both of them grinned as they walked over to accept the attention from their audience.

"Well done, Everard!" Leon said, clapping the boy on the shoulder. "Not used to being beaten, are you, Gwaine?"

Gwaine rolled his eyes and said, "He tricked me."

"By basically beating you with your own move?" Elyan said. "Quite a stroke of luck, blocking it…but very good follow-up, Everard! I've certainly never managed to defeat Gwaine, except maybe when he's drunk!"

"I think they're both very good swordfighters," Elwin interupted, draping and arm around his brother's shoulders. "I do keep asking Everard to teach me more…"

"And I've been trying, but you prefer knives anyway!" 

Merlin smiled; it was nice seeing the usually uptight Everard relax a bit more than usual. But then, didn't Elwin have that effect on everyone?

"That was excellent, Everard," Arthur said. "Keep this up and I'll have to make you a knight!"

While the knights of Camelot all chuckled appreciatively, Merlin saw Everard tense and his eyes flash in...anger? Elwin eyed him and Gwaine stopped freeing clumps of grass from his sword to sent a worried glance the boys' way. 

A few minutes later, in the armory, Elyan brought up the subject of Everard and Elwin's journey home, which Arthur had mentioned earlier. "Sire, which of us are going along with you when you take the twins back to Bernicia?"

Merlin paused in helping the Arthur remove his armor as the king said, "Only a few. Which of you would like to come?" 

_He hardly needs to ask,_ Merlin thought as he resumed his work.

"Well, I volunteer," Elyan said.

"I will gladly join the escort," Leon offered, and Percival murmured his assent.

Then Elwin piped up, "Gwaine? Are you coming, too?"

To most of the men in the room, it was a harmless query. To Merlin...and the twins...it was a loaded question. He watched Gwaine for a reaction. 

Unfortunately, the dark-haired knight was undoing his armor in a shadowed corner of the room. But his voice was calm as he replied, "If you'd like me to come along, I will."

From across the armory, Merlin saw Everard smile.

* * *

Gwaine brushed his horse with more vigor than necessary, working off excess emotions. He couldn't think straight. His mind kept replaying the conversation earlier, on the training field when Everard had beaten him.

_"The Pendragon is planning to take me and Elwin back home."_

_"So I heard."_

_"Are you coming?"_

_"Possibly."_

_"What will you do if that happens?"_

_"I'll figure it out."_

Now that it was decided...

_What am I going to do if…when I get home?_

He didn't have the faintest idea.

* * *

Arthur was in the mood to have a romantic dinner with Guinevere that night, so after he'd finished setting out the food for their majesties, Merlin wandered down into the Lower Town. Evening was falling, and the first stars were coming out. Merlin smiled to himself, humming an almost inaudible tune as he wandered down the mostly silent streets.

Then he felt it. The presence of magic.

Looking around, Merlin saw a deserted warehouse nearby.  _The magic is emanating from there._ As quietly as he could, he sneaked toward the building.

A few minutes later, he slipped inside a door that had been left ajar. Creeping through aisles of broken, dusty furniture and battered armor, he could just make out murmured words. Moving forward and peering out from behind a stack of crates, Merlin saw a circular area that had been cleared of dust and objects. In the center knelt a young woman, holding a long dagger in her hands. She was speaking so quietly that Merlin couldn't understand most of the words, but he recognized enough to realize that it was an enchantment, and not a good one.

And he heard the words  _Arthur Pendragon_ several times.

Fury surged through his veins. This sorceress was enchanting the blade  _to_   _kill Arthur_. He could feel it. 

_And it won't happen if I have anything to say about it._

Her woman's eyes flashed gold and she stood up. Merlin recognized her.

_The new kitchen maid...Helen, right? Or something like that. Wasn't she hired a couple days ago?_

At the moment, it didn't really matter.

Merlin lunged out from behind the crates and shouted, "What do you think you're doing?"

She dropped the dagger and yelled, " ** _Ástríce!_** "

" ** _Scildan!_** " A translucent shield rose to block her spell.

They stared at each other for about five seconds. 

" _You have magic!_ " they both shouted at the same time.

As the woman... _Elen, that's her name!_...prepared to cast another enchantment, Merlin moved to counter it whilst thinking,  _Well, this should get interesting._


	12. Chapter 11

It was more than interesting. It was downright terrifying.

And maybe just a little bit of fun.

It had been a long time since Merlin had been able to use his magic for much else besides speeding up his chores and dropping the occasional branch onto a bandit. But that didn't mean that he had forgotten anything. He'd been sure to study spellbooks every so often, in case Morgana came back with another immortal army or some warlord attacked by summoning a horde of restless spirits or another goblin got loose in the castle.

He just hadn't expected to be using combative spells against one of the kitchen maids.

" ** _Binne tófléon!_** " A stack of old tables crashed down to the floor, just missing Elen.

" ** _W_** ** _áce_** ** _ierlic!_** " Merlin dodged the spell, and it hit and knocked over an ancient suit of armor instead.

They were somewhat evenly matched. Unable to make use of his full elemental powers in the confined space of the warehouse...and not daring to do so anyway...Merlin found Elen to be a formidable opponent. She knew what she was doing, and almost ten minutes into the fight, neither of them were gaining significant ground.

" ** _Ic te withdraf!_** "

" ** _Swilte!_** "

That was when it stopped being fun. Merlin flung up another shield, barely in time to block the killing spell. For him, the goal so far had been to subdue the sorceress and question her about her plans to harm Arthur. But on her side...

_She means to kill me…if she can._

" ** _Forbearnan!_** " Merlin shouted, summoning a stream of fire intended to surround Elen.

She managed to elude it, but her headscarf caught flame. She ripped it off with a yell, her golden hair tumbling loose over her shoulders. " ** _Onbaerne!_** " she shrieked, turning the flames back at Merlin.

Merlin managed to avoid them, ducking behind a stack of old saddles as his ears picked up the sound of the town's warning bell. Clearly the noise of the duel hadn't gone unnoticed.

_I've got to end this before we're both caught._

Leaping out from behind the saddles, Merlin caught sight of the dagger, forgotten on the floor. " ** _Folge min bebeod!_** " he shouted with a sweeping hand gesture. The dagger flew up and hurtled through the air, straight into the woman's left side.

Her scream tore to shreds everything that wasn't metal in a twenty foot radius and sent Merlin flying backwards into the nearest wall. By the time he managed to struggle out of the pile of wreckage, Elen was nowhere in sight. Blood dotted the floor in an unmistakable trail.

Merlin followed the splatters out into the streets, where he promptly ran into a group of guards. Arthur was with them.

"Merlin! Where have you been? You're a mess!"

The truth wouldn't do at all, of course, so Merlin said the first thing that came into his head, which unfortunately was, "The tavern."

_Damn it._

Arthur rolled his eyes and said, "The tavern. I should've known." Turning to the silent guards, he commanded, "Check all the streets. Alert me if you find anything." As they marched off, the king turned back to Merlin. "Really,  _Mer_ lin, I give you a couple hours off and what do you do? You go to the tavern…and get in a fight, by the looks of you. Did someone throw you into a pigsty?"

Merlin shrugged. "What's going on? Why is the warning bell ringing?"  _Per usual, I'm being forced to play stupid._

"Someone heard what sounded like magical spells being shouted in this neighborhood, along with other suspicious noises. Did you see anything?" When Merlin shook his head, the king continued, "Go back up to the castle and tidy my chambers, idiot."

"Sure thing, prat." What Merlin really wanted to do was find Elen, but he decided that he'd have to pursue that later. If Arthur caught him lurking around, he'd get even more suspicious, clueless royal or not. So Merlin headed back up to the citadel, his emotions conflicted.

He wanted to catch Elen and confront her for her nefarious plans. But he didn't want Arthur to catch her.

_He'll execute her, no questions asked._

* * *

Gwaine hurried along yet another dark street.  _Will someone stop that bloody clanging?_ he wondered disgustedly. The warning bell was still ringing. It made his ever-present headache worse.

He was already exhausted. He'd stopped taking sleeping draughts, but the nightmares had not relented much. The result was a bad night's sleep every night. Also, he'd been dragged from his dinner.

He was really not in the mood to hunt down a magic-user.

Grumbling to himself under his breath, Gwaine stopped at a shadowy corner near the front gates of the city. Maybe he'd start heading back to the castle; no one but guards were out here now. Even if there  _had_ been a sorcerer making a ruckus in the Lower Town earlier…

Then he heard a sharp, pained gasp from the alley across from him.

Sword out, keeping to the shadows, Gwaine approached the source of the noise. A metal blade clattered against the cobblestones, the sound muffled by a curse. In the light of the newly risen moon, Gwaine could see the dagger, a couple yards ahead of him. It was covered in blood.

The knight paused, considering whether or not to call for help. If this was a sorcerer, he might need assistance in subduing him. _Or her._ Then the injured person came out into the light, bent over with a hand clamped over a spot on the left side of her abdomen. 

And every thought Gwaine had of calling for help fled his mind in an instant.

"Elen," he whispered.

"Brother," Her voice shook.

Their eyes met just as the sound of deep voices drifted from the end of the dark alley.  _"Look, blood; wherever the sorcerer is, he's injured. Check down here!"_

Gwaine saw Elen straighten, her eyes hardening, but he lunged forward and grabbed her arm before she could do anything, hauling her out of the alley and down another, away from the guards. The next few minutes were a blur of twisted, dark streets, pounding hearts, and approaching footsteps. Gwaine didn't dare stop, even when he heard his sister gasp in pain every few feet; guards and knights were still searching.

_I can't let them catch my sister._

She resisted, pulling him to a halt behind a tool shed and hissing when she realized that he was taking her in the direction of the castle. He paused long enough to explain, "There's a tunnel that leads under the town to outside the walls. It can be only accessed through the citadel." When Elen still refused to move, Gwaine said, "Elen, _trust me_."

_Trust me? How can I tell her that after the things I've done?_

Elen remained still, examining Gwaine. Too late he realized what he was wearing: his chain mail and red cloak with the Pendragon crest on it. "You're a knight of Camelot, aren't you?"

Gwaine wasn't certain which part hurt more, the anger in Elen's voice or flicker of hope in her eyes...the hope that this was a mistake, that he wasn't serving a Pendragon.

His silence was enough answer. Her jaw hardened and she pulled her arm from his grip. Heart aching, Gwaine said quietly, "You're bleeding."

Elen glanced down at the wound. It wasn't very big nor did it seem deep, but the amount of blood coming from it was worrying. Wincing, she put her hand over it and muttered, " ** _Thrhhaele dolgbenn._** " Her eyes flashed gold. The blood stopped oozing, but Gwaine could tell that it didn't heal all the way. "Well?" Elen snapped after they'd been standing still a minute longer. "'Aren't we being pursued?"

Gwaine gestured for her to follow him. "Why didn't the spell work?" he asked a few minutes later, after they'd successfully slipped into the castle and began to sneak along the lower hallways.

Her breath was labored as she answered, "Dagger…was cursed. My…my doing. Not meant for me…the curse, I mean. Stupid serving boy used a telekinetic spell on it…stabbed me."

Gwaine stopped, ducking behind an old statue and pulling Elen after him. Forcing her to face him, he demanded, "What serving boy? And who was the blade enchanted to kill?"

Elen made a face. "It was meant to kill Arthur. His manservant has magic…he found me and attacked. Scrawny bastard."

Gwaine's annoyance at his sister's slurring Merlin was overcome by the fact that she'd enchanted a knife specifically to kill Arthur. "You were planning to kill the king?  _Why?_ "

_Do I really need to ask that?_ There was a long list of reasons Elen would have to kill Arthur. But before he could refute his question, she said coldly, "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize that you'd swore fealty to him. That you'd become  _loyal_  to him." Her voice reeked of resentment and hate.

_Some of it is probably for me._ He deserved it. But he asked again, urgently, " _Why_ , Elen?"

"He kidnapped our cousins. Or ordered someone to do so."

"He  _rescued_ Everard and Elwin. He is planning to take them back to Bernicia!"

"Do you really believe that?" 

The warning bell had ceased its clanging, but the distant clamor of guards' voices reminded Gwaine of their predicament. "Come on," he snapped, leading Elen out from behind the statue and down the torchlit corridors.

The next part of the journey seemed to last for hours. But it couldn't have been longer than a half hour before they had found the tunnel that led from the burial vaults and left the city behind them. The grate at the end of the tunnel had worried Gwaine at first, but Elen simply muttered a couple words and it was blasted off its mountings. Then she turned to face him. "Now what?"

He knew what had to happen now, but it didn't mean he liked it.  _She's injured. But she can take care of herself. I think. I hope._

"You go. Get out of here. Somebody in the castle will have noticed that you are missing by now and they'll put two and two together." When Elen didn't move, her face blank, Gwaine nearly shouted in frustration, "Elen, listen, we don't have time for you to be stubborn. Get yourself back to Bernicia as quickly as you can, do you understand me?"

"The twins…"

"I'll get them home. I promise. Now go."

She stared at him, but began to back away before turning and running into the woods.

Gwaine forced himself to hurry back toward the castle, to report his findings to Arthur.

Which was to say, he would concoct a lie as an explanation for his brief disappearance. But, to be honest, Arthur was hardly his biggest concern right now.

_Elen, what on earth did you think you were doing?_

* * *

_Gwaine, what have you done?_

Elen didn't make it far into the woods before she collapsed. Her injury, though still painful, was not the cause.

Her tears were.

Elen did not like to cry. She usually refused to do so. It showed weakness. She had learned, over the years, to turn all her sadness and fear into anger. Anger kept her safe, far safer than the vulnerability of tears. She preferred to break and burn things over crying. Yes, anger was better. She could always retreat into it.

She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd cried since she was a very young child. The last time, it had been from sheer terror.

This time? She wasn't sure. Anger, betrayal? Probably. Regret?

_Don't even go there._

She was not safe this close to Camelot. She had to keep going.

_Damn my brother. The traitor._

Who had just saved her life.

_I can't believe I've missed him so much._

And now that she'd seen him now, so changed, so…so  _unlike_ her lost brother…the pain was only going to get worse.

* * *

It had been a rough night so far. The search for the sorcerer had  ended when guards had found the grate on the tunnel from the burial vaults torn off. And the newest castle kitchen maid had gone missing; it was suspected that she was the sorceress who had disturbed the peace of Camelot that evening.

Merlin stifled a yawn as he listened to the king and the knights converse over what to do.

"Whoever she was and whatever her plans are, she's gone now, sire," Leon said. "But she  _was_  injured, seemingly in whatever fight occurred in that warehouse, which means…"

"She had a fight with someone else; we already discussed that. There's just no way to be sure..." Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "We've been talking about this for too long. It's late. We'll keep patrols regular and look around more in the morning. Goodnight, everyone."

The knights dispersed, some silently brooding, others muttering to their friends. Merlin watched Gwaine leave. The knight been completely silent throughout the whole meeting...far too silent, even for his present mood…

Merlin's half-closed eyes flew open.  _He knows something._ He wasn't sure where the conviction came from, but if Merlin had learned one thing over the years, it was that his instincts were usually right.

Now wide awake, Merlin followed the dark haired knight as he strode, not to his rooms, but to the parapet that overlooked the castle gates. No one else was around, and Gwaine sauntered forward to lean on the balustrade. Merlin watched for a few minutes before going over to join him.

Gwaine glanced at him. "Hey, mate."

"Gwaine." They remained in silence for a few moments until Gwaine spoke.

"You can ask me, you know."

"Ask you what?"

"Whatever it is you're just dying to ask me right now." Gwaine chuckled. "I don't know if I can lie properly to you right now, Merlin. You've come close just enough times. Besides, I'm tired nearly out of my senses."

Merlin almost laughed at that, but the questions burning in his mind stopped him. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to speak.

What he meant to ask was  _What do you know about the sorceress?_ , but what came out was, "Why did you lie about your past?" It was the question he'd been asking in his head for weeks, the one that somehow bothered him above all the rest. Because he'd thought that Gwaine was his friend, that he trusted him.

Merlin didn't know what reply his question would receive. He expected anger, or laughter, or maybe no answer at all.

He didn't expect Gwaine to turn, look him in the eye, and say, "Why do you lie about your magic?"


	13. Chapter 12

It took a few moments for Merlin to comprehend exactly what Gwaine had said. His automatic protest came tumbling from his lips before he could stop it. "I…I don't…I don't know what you're talking about…" he stammered.

"Merlin, calm down. I'm not going to tell anyone." He smiled crookedly. "If I wanted to turn you in, I would've done so years ago."

That brought Merlin's ramblings to a halt. "How…how long have you known?" 

"Since the first time I met you. Unlike the Princess, I know magic when I see it. Flying plates and benches aren't exactly hard to miss…if you're looking." Gwaine eyed Merlin. "Don't worry about the twins," he added. "Everard won't say anything unless it comes to a toss up between your life and his brother's and Elwin won't mention it unless his brother or I tell him to."

Merlin swallowed, still wondering how Gwaine had managed to turn the tables in this conversation. "You knew and never told Arthur."

"You were my friend before Arthur was. Besides," he shifted uncomfortably, "I don't believe that magic is evil. Never have, never will. I do understand why you lie about yours, though; self-preservation, right?"

Merlin nodded. "That leads me back to my question: Why did you lie about your past?"

It took a long time for Gwaine to answer. "I told you before, Merlin. I can't trust myself. So I can't trust anyone."

"You kept my secret."

"That's different."

"Gwaine!" Merlin glared at the knight, frustrated. "You know my secret and you kept it. Can't you trust me enough to tell me yours?"

Gwaine clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes as if to brace himself. Finally, his voice low, he began to speak.

"My name is Gwaine Barclayn, son of Prince Goddard, the younger brother of King Harlan of Bernicia. Everard and Elwin are the king's younger sons. In case you were wondering."

_So Gaius and I were right. Everard and Elwin are princes. And Gwaine did lie to me about his past._ But Merlin felt more curiosity than anger at the moment.

"Remember when I told you that I disliked nobles?" Gwaine said. "Well, really it was Pendragons that I didn't like. My mother was a sorceress who had fled the Great Purge. I bet you can imagine some of the stories I grew up with."

Merlin broke the short silence that followed. "The sorceress, Elen. The one I fought earlier. You helped her escape, didn't you? And who is she?"

"So you did fight her. She mentioned you." Gwaine grimaced. "Elen's my sister. She was here for the twins, and yes, I helped her escape. She thought Arthur had abducted them."

"What! Why?" 

"Search me. She's more prejudiced against magic-haters than I am. It wouldn't take much to set her off…a rumor or a suspicion…oh,  _damn_!  _I_  told her they were in Camelot!"

Merlin blinked. "What?"

"Have you ever heard of dream telepathy?"

"Not much, but yeah."

"Well, when I was under the influence of that sleeping potion, I saw Elen in a dream. It had happened before…when we were children, Elen was always getting into my dreams. We kind of grew out of it, but that one night…I wasn't thinking straight, but I still managed to tell her that the twins were in Camelot. She must've taken it the wrong way. So she came marching in here, managing to get herself nearly killed…" He trailed off muttering to himself.

"Um…sorry about that…"

Gwaine waved his hand dismissively, though his eyes were troubled. "She was asking for it. She should have found me. Let me guess; she tried to kill you first? Before you stabbed her?"

"Yeah." Merlin frowned. "So she's gone?"

"I told her to go home. Back to Bernicia. I said I'd get the twins home myself."

"Aren't you worried about her?"

Gwaine looked away. "Hell, of course I'm worried about her, Merlin. Wouldn't you be, if it was your sister?"

"Yeah, I would. Gwaine..." _Is this the right time for this question?_ , "When was the last time you saw her? Before tonight?"

"Ten years ago."

"When you ran away from home."

"Ah, so the twins did tell you that much."

"Why'd you do it? Were you unhappy?"

"No. Not…not exactly." Gwaine wouldn't look at him. "I…I loved my family. My life back home. Still do. I had everything I wanted. Being related to the royal family was never entirely safe, but I…I was never afraid. Not really. I was happy. But then I did something…" His voice started shaking. "I was with my father." he said. "We'd gone with a patrol to a village on the border of Strathclyde. There'd been some rumors of wolf attacks…Most of the patrol went back to the city, but my father and I went home to our castle farther south…we didn't think we needed guards…but we were attacked…"

Merlin felt his throat constrict with apprehension.

"Bandits. There weren't that many…we were fighting them, I led a couple off, killed them, then I was hiding…I heard a branch break, I panicked…" By now he was obviously holding back tears. "I still don't know why I didn't check…" Gwaine clutched the stone balustrade of the parapet, his knuckles white. "I went lunging around that tree like a fool…and the next thing I knew my sword had gone straight through Father. I killed him." He was actually crying by this point. "I'm a murderer, Merlin, and…and that's why I ran, right then, and I never went back. I never can."

Merlin waited to speak until Gwaine's muffled sobs lessened. "You ran away immediately?"

"I panicked...I couldn't...I don't know what I was thinking. I don't think I was thinking at all." 

"But it was an accident, wasn't it? You didn't mean to kill him." 

"Yeah, but that...that doesn't change anything. Father's still dead and I did it." 

Gwaine didn't seem inclined to speak anymore. So Merlin said, "My father died in my arms, after he sacrificed himself for me. I'd only spent a couple days with him, but it hurt so badly…For a while, I blamed myself." He paused. "How old were you…when it happened? Ten years ago, your cousins said, so you'd be…"

"I'd just turned sixteen." Gwaine drew a shaky breath. "I asked to go on that patrol with Father. It would've been better if I hadn't. Then it wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't be dead. And I wouldn't have run."

"I didn't care where I was going, just that I was gone from Bernicia, far away where I couldn't hurt anyone else I loved. I earned a living, if you can call it that, by using a sword and gambling. I spent some time with bandits…picked up some tips on a lot of things…but then I'd kill them all in their sleep once I'd gained their trust. Or maybe that was a dream...I think I went a bit crazy for a while, and I was always drunk. Couple years later, I guess I...woke up. I was scaring myself. So I started behaving a little less...Didn't stop drinking, though." 

"You started acting like the Gwaine I met."

"Yeah. Hiding behind gallows humor. I'm great at it. People got tired of me quickly…I told you that once. Kept me from staying in one place too long. But I guess it helped me keep my sanity." Gwaine shuddered. "Some of the things I've seen, Merlin…Compared to some of the places I've been, Camelot's paradise. Even with all the executions, all the fear of something the king doesn't understand…But I've a place here…There's been a few times I've considered leaving, if only to keep myself from spitting in Arthur's face when he says something about how evil magic is...Sometimes when he executes a magic user, even though it's not often, I can only see my mother or my sister, or Mother's siblings…the uncles and aunt I never knew because Uther killed them for the magic they were born with. I can hide a surprising amount of fury behind my laugh, Merlin."

_Uther killed some of his family?_ Suddenly the pure hatred on Gwaine's face the time he'd faced Uther made a lot more sense.

Gwaine kept speaking, "Arthur's different, even though he's often so insufferable. And I've seen how devoted you are to him…That's what caught my interest from the start. A sorcerer, choosing to serve a master who would have him killed if the truth were known? You're a far braver man than I, Merlin. But I don't know how you can do it. How can you serve him? I can because despite the fact that I'm related to at least two sorceresses, I don't have magic. Plus I'm an exile. Camelot's as safe as anywhere. Besides, I trust your judgment. But why, Merlin?"

Merlin didn't even think of lying. "Because it's my destiny."

"Your destiny is to serve and protect Arthur Pendragon?" When Merlin nodded in confirmation, Gwaine said, "Must be nice, knowing your destiny."

"Trust me, it's a pain at times."

Gwaine chuckled, but rapidly fell quiet. "Your father…who was he?"

"His name was Balinor." Gwaine's eyes flashed in recognition of the name. Forestalling the question, Merlin said, "He was a Dragonlord."

"Oh. That explains the wyverns." Gwaine shook himself and asked, "What was he like?"

"Strange. Lonely. Wary. But…He knew who I was. For a day." It still hurt to speak of it. "He was my father. As I said before, he could have taught me so much. But he never had the chance."

"I guess that dragon's not dead then?"

"No. What was your father like? Since it turned out that you actually did know him?"

Gwaine winced. "Merlin, I lied to you because…I couldn't face it myself. It had nothing to do with you personally…It was easier to pretend that I never knew my father than to admit that I ended his life."

Merlin only nodded to show that he understood. 

Apparently relieved, Gwaine leaned back against the balustrade. "He was kind. Understanding. Protective. He loved horses. And he was a brilliant swordsman."

"He taught you?"

"Yes. He was Uncle Harlan's favorite advisor...unusual, actually, most kings hate their brothers like poison. Afraid of insubordination, I suppose. But Father and Harlan trusted each other. That's just it…Father was trustworthy. He was honest. He believed that nobility is defined by what you do, not who you are."

Merlin started at the familiar phrase. "So he taught you that, too."

"Yes. He did have his own prejudices, of course. For instance, he hated Pendragons with a passion, because Mother did. But mostly, he judged people by their actions, not their blood. He never put on airs about being a noble. As a result, I didn't either. Not often, anyways. Sometimes it was fun, using my rank as the king's nephew in order to get what I wanted...but for the most part, I tried to follow Father's example. Many of my friends were commoners, actually. Like Hayden…You'd like him, I think."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"Well, he tames wyverns, for starters."

Merlin laughed. That's impossible!"

"No, it's not!" Gwaine grinned. "Why do you think I know so much about them, Merlin?"

"Well…You do seem to be able to recognize them from a distance…and you knew what they were before I did…"

"Trust me, if you've ever had to feed a wyvern by hand, you'd be able to recognize one anywhere." Gwaine smiled reminiscently. "They make a particular screechy, hissing noise when they're hungry. It's awful."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "You fed a wyvern? Wouldn't that have been your friend's job?"

"Though devoted to his scaly fiends, Hayden dared me to feed one once, and after that I just kind of got into the habit of helping…when I had the time to visit. He and his father lived a few miles outside of the city. Their family had been involved in taming wyverns for a few generations…they never had a whole lot of them at one time, though. To much to handle." He looked back at Merlin, the mischievous look in his eyes almost blotting out the sadness. "Right then, I've just spilled my guts, now you tell me when you first realized that you had magic."

* * *

Their conversation was long and rambling. 

Merlin told Gwaine about his secret involvement in many of the momentous events in Camelot. The dark-haired knight looked pained when he heard the stories of horrible treatment and revenge of magic users in Camelot, but roared with laughter when he heard the more humorous accounts such as the tale of Arthur's troll stepmother and Gaius' goblin-induced hunger for gold.

In return, Gwaine told Merlin about his childhood in Bernicia, steering clear of any mention of his father's death. Merlin was fascinated. Gwaine had grown up around magic in a way that even Merlin had never experienced. Apparently, in Bernicia, wyvern-tamers were hardly the strangest thing around. Sorcerers practiced their magic openly; healers in particular were revered. Magical creatures were allowed to roam about,unless they started killing people or livestock. "The number of hunts Uncle Harlan went on after magical creatures…He could almost beat Arthur on that score!" When Merlin mentioned the adventure he'd had with Arthur and the unicorn, Gwaine revealed that he'd also seen a unicorn before. "Aldwyn, Haralda, and I were on a ride when it just appeared out of the trees…It was the most beautiful creature we'd ever seen. We just sat there and watched it for at least an hour before it finished grazing and moved on."

Mostly, Gwaine talked about his family. Merlin's head was practically spinning with the tales of Gwaine's great-aunt Gytha, who knew ancient stories from every known kingdom, handsome Aldwyn, the Crown Prince who even as a teenager could best any man with a crossbow, Aunt Gerarda, who had apparently ridden to war with her brothers before she had got married to the ruler of Strathclyde, and a few others whom Merlin had trouble keeping straight. Gwaine had also had many friends, mainly cordial acquaintances, with a small group of close companions including his cousin Aldwyn.  _Rather like his relationship now with the other knights…_

That was about when Merlin asked about the pendant.

The mention of the small trinket made Gwaine wince, but he answered easily enough, "Uncle Harlan had four of these made." He rubbed the silver object between his thumb and forefinger. "One for each of his children. Something about some anniversary or other, I think…Anyway, I nicked Aldwyn's before I went on that…that last patrol. It was a joke, nothing more. We would have laughed over it later. But then, after what happened…" Gwaine trailed off, staring into the distance.

Not wanting to force Gwaine into reliving his father's death again tonight, Merlin asked as lightly as he could, "What about girls, Gwaine? You've always bragged about your flirting talent being practiced early, and you've barely mentioned any so far!"

It worked; at least, Gwaine cheered up a bit. "Oh, girls barely noticed me around Aldwyn. He had half of the young female population swooning over him before he turned fifteen. But I did get plenty of leftovers, so to speak…and lots of pointers on how to win a woman's favor. Oh, and there was Cleva, of course."

"Who?"

"Lady Cleva, rather. She had a rough start in life...her father died when she was very young, her brother not long after. She and her mother arrived in Bernicia sometime around her ninth birthday. Cleva didn't get along with others very well and had a bad stutter…lots of other kids teased her for those things…I was almost twelve, I think, when we first met…Anyway, I ended up fighting the bullies who messed with her. Helped me perfect my fist fighting techniques, let me tell you, and was much more fun than pulling rank. At first I was just her protector; she was rather in awe of me. But later we became friends. I think I was her best friend, actually." Gwaine hooked his fingers on the slender golden ring on the chain around his neck. "That's what this is from. She gave it to me as a present when we were still kids. She got it in...Northumbria or Rheged, I don't remember which." 

The two friends parted ways soon afterward, as it was nearing dawn. When Merlin had reached his room and was stretched out on his bed, it was Gwaine's mention of the wyvern tamer that occupied him the most. _Imagine, taming a dragon-like creature_ without  _being a Dragonlord…probably couldn't manage an actual dragon, though…I'm going to have to meet some of these people one day…Hopefully I'll be able to keep all Gwaine's family members' names straight…_

And with that thought, the exhausted warlock drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Gwaine was paying dearly, by way of a headache and constant drowsiness, for his late night spent talking to Merlin. But he didn't regret it. In a way, he felt better than he had in weeks.

But plenty of worry remained. 

First off, he was concerned for his sister. Tough as he knew she was, he worried for her safety. _Isn't_   _that normal Even if she'd been trying to murder the king…well, I've been tempted a few times…_

Also, Arthur had decided not to delay the task of escorting the twins home much longer, since there'd been no sign of further suspicious activity. Gwaine was now faced with the problem of what to do when he brought them back to Bernicia as he had promised.

_And speaking of the twins, how am I going to deal with them?_ Gwaine and Everard might have come to an understanding days ago, but Elwin was keeping his distance, whether of his own volition or under his overprotective brother's orders Gwaine couldn't tell. Regardless, he did have to talk to them. 

This resulted in Gwaine dragging a reluctant Elwin into a broom closet while Everard followed, demanding that the older man release his brother or else. But soon enough, Gwaine had both of them locked in with him, though now they both were protesting. _Loudly_. 

"Elen was here last night," he said bluntly, mostly to shut them up.

It worked long enough for him to explain. "She came to Camelot under the guise of a kitchen maid. For some reason, she got it into her head that Arthur had kidnapped you, and she planned to get you out and kill Arthur at the same time. Merlin stopped her, and I got her out of Camelot. Merlin and I had a long chat...he knows all about us now, and he won't tell, I can assure you of that." He paused to take a breath.

Everard spoke up. " _Merlin_ stopped Elen? What happened?"

"He stabbed her. I think." Gwaine still wasn't clear on the details.  _Not sure I want to know._

Of course, that revelation that Merlin had stabbed Elen didn't go over well. "He  _what?_ " both twins shrieked, then began to talk at the same time, threatening Merlin with all sorts of violent revenge.

Gwaine smacked them both on the back of the head to get them to stop. "Listen, she was  _trying to kill the king_. Now I know that you two don't approve of him because he's a Pendragon…" this earned a snort from Everard and a sheepish look from Elwin, "…but he did save your lives. He's intending to take you back to Bernicia, which is more than most kings would do. He's a good man, as hard as that may be for you to believe. It took me a long time, too. Elen will be fine, she used magic to heal herself."  _No need to worry them._ "She'll meet us at home. I'm telling you this because you have the right to know. And you'd better not try to punish Merlin or Arthur for what happened to Elen...if anyone should be angry, it's me. She's  _my_  sister, not yours. Now go do whatever it is you were doing when I dragged you in here." Gwaine unlocked the door and shooed the boys out. They hurried off, glaring over their shoulders and muttering mutinously.

Gwaine sighed and rubbed his temples as they disappeared around a corner.  _I might be untrustworthy around ale and sleeping draughts, but I don't care. I'm going to get a headache cure from Gaius._

* * *

"You rat-brained useless lump! This is your fault!"

"It's no more my fault than yours, you pompous, fancy, royal  _troll!_ "

Cleva was very, very close to grabbing the nearest cooking pot from her saddlebag and throwing it at Ryle or Aldwyn. Preferably, it would hit both of them.

_Honestly, why can't they read a map…_ Perhaps it was outdated; that was always a possibility. Not for the first time and probably not for the last, Cleva urged her horse forward away from the arguing men. Scanning the trees ahead of her, she glimpsed something; something that made her pull up quickly. "Oi!" she bellowed, reveling in the fact that she could shout without stammering anymore. "You two!" She turned to look at the confused faces of Ryle and Aldwyn. "Isn't that a road?" She waved her hand at the nearby wheel tracks, just visible through the trees.

_Going by the sun, it's a road that runs_   _south._ _Even better._

* * *

_Tired. I'm tired._

Elen slumped over the neck of her white mare. She'd tried to use her magic to heal herself more than once, but it wasn't working properly.  _I'm a warrior, an enchantress, not a healer. And that curse may not have been meant for me, but it isn't helping me any._ The curse would not kill her. That was not the way it worked; it was meant to kill Arthur and Arthur alone. But it had weakened her.

_I want to rest. But I can't; I have to get home…_ _Mother_. Her mother would be able to help.  _But I'm so tired…_

When the masked figures attacked her, she didn't even manage to put up a fight.


	14. Chapter 13

The sky was clear blue and the early-morning sun was warm, but a brisk breeze blew through the castle courtyard. As Merlin fastened another bag of supplies to a horse's saddle, he noted Everard eyeing the proudly wavingCamelot flags on the castle with an expression of mild distaste. Leon, walking up with his horse, noticed as well. "Something wrong, Everard?" 

The boy shook himself and answered, "Not at all. I was just thinking of how impractical the color red is. Not on flags....but your cloak? How do you stay hidden in that?"

From the other side of Leon, Elyan said, "We don't. If we have to sneak around we just wear our chain mail."

"But still," Everard said, "red is very unreasonable for an article of clothing. Unless it's a dress."

Merlin and Elyan exchanged amused glances as Leon, typically flustered at the mention of the word 'dress', said, "It's traditional for knights of Camelot to wear these cloaks. We consider it a badge of honor to wear the Pendragon crest and colors!"

"Suit yourself. Red makes a nice parade color. But Bernician knights wear green."

"How sensible of them," Elyan said.

"What's sensible of who?" Elwin jogged down the castle's front steps to join his brother. Everard whispered something to his twin, who grinned and murmured something which started them both laughing.

A few minutes later Arthur, Percival, Gwaine, and Guinevere arrived. The queen was in the middle of a warning to her husband. "…and try not to be eaten by a giant rat, Arthur. And if you get captured by _yet another_ group of bandits…"

"Gwen…"

"…you're always reckless, though you'll never admit it…"

"Guine _vere,_ " Arthur interrupted, "I'm not riding into battle! And I don't plan to go through the Perilous Lands this time, either."

"Whole lot of fun  _that_  was," Gwaine muttered to Merlin as he cinched up his horse's saddle.

Merlin snorted. Most of the knights exchanged amused glances and Arthur gave Merlin an exasperated look. Elwin asked, "What's so funny?"

Gwaine and Merlin just grinned at each other.

Gaius appeared, handing Merlin a small bag of medicinal supplies. "Keep yourself out of trouble." He gave Merlin a quick hug and glanced around at the others. "I'm saying that to all of you."

"Don't we always stay out of trouble, Gaius?" Gwaine joked.

Even Gaius and Gwen showed some amusement at that.

Merlin felt pleased that Gwaine was at least recovering some of his good humor. It didn't seem to be an act this morning.  _But would you recognize the act if you saw it?_

He pushed the thought away.

Soon they were ready to depart. With Arthur in the lead, they had begun to ride out of the castle courtyard when Gwen called after them, "Merlin! Elyan! Keep an eye on my husband, will you?" Craning his head around, Merlin could see that she was smiling. He waved in return. 

"Don't worry, we will!" Elyan answered for both of them.

Arthur sighed. "My own  _wife_ doesn't trust me to stay out of trouble!"

"No offense, Sire, but she does have a point," Leon said with his usual candor, prompting a laugh from the others as they rode through the town and out of Camelot.

* * *

The weather remained clear throughout the day, and the mood of the travelers remained optimistic. It was easy to be so while riding through the late spring woods in the bright sunshine, with the prospect of a journey ahead that wouldn't necessarily end in a confrontation with a rival army or some dangerous magical creature.

_Well, hopefully not._ Merlin couldn't help but think about Hayden's wyverns and wonder if Gwaine's uncle Harlan would take offense at the fact that a Pendragon had rescued his sons.  _If the King of Bernicia is half as bigoted against Arthur as his niece is…_

That night and the next day passed uneventfully. The weather remained fair, the company pleasant.

As they traveled, Merlin noted the knights' continued acceptance of the twins. Elwin seemed to be something of a impish "little brother" to Percival and Elyan, while Sir Leon and Everard got along oddly well despite their varying opinions. Those two spent quite a lot of time riding next to each other, immersed in cordial discussions that every so often verged on heated. They kept their voices rather low, unlike Elwin and the other knights, who seemed to delight in guffawing loudly every other sentence. But a couple times, Merlin deliberately steered his mount close enough so he could hear the more serious conversation.

"So you don't have a Knights' Code in Bernicia?" 

"Not like you do. Nobles are the ones who become knights, but it's not quite such a…a high position in Bernicia as it is in Camelot. Knights are considered elite soldiers, but not much else."

"That view doesn't seem to lend itself to morality and honor," Leon commented. "The Knights of Camelot are considered the foundation of a most loyal and honorable army."

"Of that I have no doubt. I'm just afraid that we're rather short of…well,  _collective_  honor in Bernicia."

Merlin dropped back to join Gwaine at the rear of the party. "Gwaine, were you considered a knight in Bernicia? Because of your status?"

Gwaine looked vaguely startled at this. "Oh, I see. Been listening to my young cousin argue with Leon about etiquette, have you?" He grinned and continued, "Not really. There isn't really a strict way to becoming a knight in Bernicia, but I would've ended up one when I got to the age of twenty or so. The twins probably will, too. If you're a noble, it just means that you can go to war if it is necessary. Foot soldiers are recruited differently…My father," Gwaine hesitated, "My father was a knight. I didn't lie about that bit."

_You just lied about where he was from and which king he served…_

"He said that he saw becoming a knight as a sort of sign that he was considered an adult. But being knighted isn't in itself a major turning point or anything. It's not like Camelot's traditions of grandeur."

Merlin nodded to show that he understood. "So Bernician knights wear green? Everard mentioned it...after calling red cloaks impractical."

Gwaine, unexpectedly, laughed. The others turned around to stare at him. "Impractical, are they? You know, Everard, I've been thinking the same thing since I became a knight!"

"This is about the cloaks, isn't it?" Leon said. 

To Merlin's surprise, Everard was the first to laugh. 

* * *

A column of smoke from the campfire drifted up into the star-strewn sky. Gwaine watched the shifting, glowing flames and cinders while listening to the chatter and laughter of the others. The knights were taking turns telling tales of their exploits, and all appeared cheerful at the prospect of a little adventure in the following days.  _We do enjoy getting out of Camelot every once in awhile, don't we? Especially the king._  And Everard and Elwin seemed happy to be going home finally.  _Poor kids, they're probably homesick…_ He understood only too well.

_Damn it, don't go there…_

But he couldn't help himself. He was homesick, too.

It seemed like every time he closed his eyes lately, all he could see was images of home: a windswept moor, the royal castle of Bernicia on a lofty mount above the town, a blossoming apple orchard. A valley filled of clouds while the heights surrounding it gleamed in the sunlight. Hayden petting his wyverns and insisting that they were just as agreeable as any cuddly pet. Young Aldwyn practicing with a crossbow and laughing at Gwaine's ineptitude with the weapon. Uncle Harlan pounding his fist on a banquet table, roaring with laughter. Great-Aunt Gytha telling a story. Cleva urging her horse to leap across a stream. Elen, carefree, young, and laughing, the northern breeze blowing her golden hair about. His mother's brilliant sky blue eyes, changeful as the weather. His father smiling and shaking his head in amusement…

Gwaine stood abruptly, prompting some questions from the others. Waving them off, he muttered, "Call of nature," before hurrying off. He stopped a short distance from the camp, hidden in the dark trees. Leaning against the rough bark of one trunk, he looked up at the gently waving tree branches, black against the starry sky above. He remained for a few long minutes while he struggled to get his breathing under control.

When he returned to the others, Elyan was telling some story about Guinevere chasing him around the Lower Town when they were children. "She claimed that I stole her shawl. Why would I ever do that?"

"Well, did you?" asked Percival.

"Um, no…but I did know who did," Elyan admitted. "Anyway, Gwen eventually chased me straight into a fence, which I climbed over…It was a pigsty. You can imagine the result."

"Our little sister threw an entire meat pie at Everard once. It hit him on the head." Elwin grinned and elbowed his brother, who turned pink. "Remember that, Ev?"

"She was  _four_!" Everard protested. "She didn't know any better!"

"So you have a younger sister?" Merlin asked, putting a slight emphasis on the word "younger". His gaze met Gwaine's. Gwaine realized, with a jolt, that Merlin had picked up on the significance of this information before he had.  _They_ don't _have a little sister...I must've mentioned to Merlin that Haralda is only a year younger than me…_

"Yeah, Hertha. She's nine years old at the moment." Now Gwaine found himself staring into Elwin's concerned eyes.

_Shit, I've got another cousin that I didn't know about._ As if the twins' age shift wasn't enough to remind him that he had been gone from home far too long. For a short while, all Gwaine could think about was what he would give to be at a tavern. Ale or mead, in large enough doses, was almost always enough to dull the gut-twisting guilt and shame. IHe'd would take what he could get.

In the present situation, that was nothing.

Arthur said, "How many siblings do you have? You haven't exactly been open about your family so far."

Everard immediately straightened, radiating suspicion. But Elwin had relaxed again and replied,  "Three. Aldwyn's the oldest, then there's Haralda, then Hertha. Aldwyn and Haralda are really much older than us. Aldwyn's married …"

_Wait, Aldwyn's married?_

"…to Braeden; she's nice. They don't have any children yet though Father keeps telling them that they ought to…"

_Oh, damn._ Gwaine was pretty sure he knew who "Braeden" was.  _Please don't let slip her title._

"…Haralda claims that she doesn't want to get married, but Aldwyn says…"

Everard stretched, rather too quickly to be natural, and somehow managed to clout his brother on the side of the head. "Hey!" Elwin yelped, more from indignation than anything else, and moments later the twins were engaged in an impromptu wrestling match. The knights cheered them on, but it was tired applause. After a couple more minutes of halfhearted jokes, the weary travelers prepared for bed.

Gwaine volunteered for first watch. Before long, the grunted goodnights and grumbled arguments over bedroll space died away, leaving him alone with the dying campfire and his own thoughts.

_Aldwyn's married…_ _If I'm right, he's married to that princess from Deira…_ _Uncle Harlan and Aunt Aldora had another child…wasn't four enough? Maybe they were counting the twins as one…Ha, that's a thought..._

Why on earth hadn't the twins talked to him more about home before now? He'd made himself scarce around them at first, but for the last few days he hadn't been unfriendly. He'd wondered if they'd speak to him more on the journey. Yet they still kept heir distance.

_Well, why should they trust me? They don't know me anymore, and besides, no_ _one should trust me…_

The next couple hours passed with no disturbance save the occasional hoot of an owl. Gwaine's thoughts dissipated slowly as he grew sleepy. Staring into the glowing coals of the fire, he felt his eyelids drooping…

_"No! Stop! Let go!"_

A shout came from his lips before he had even fully awoken and he doubled over, gasping It took him a few seconds to realize that he hadn't been the one who had screamed the words. He'd merely reacted to them.

Thankfully, most of the others were still asleep, except for Percival, who sat up. "Gwaine?" he asked in his low, rumbling voice. "Are you all right?"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Gwaine replied, "Yeah, Percy, I'm fine. Just heard a bird or something."

Percival stood up and stretched. "I'll take this watch, if you'd like."

"Yeah, thanks." Gwaine stood quickly and settled down on his bedroll a short distance from the fire.

He was still shifting around, trying to get comfortable, when a voice hissed from behind him. " _Gwaine._ "

Rolling over, Gwaine came face-to-face with Merlin, whose blue eyes were wide with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

_Am I?_ His stomach felt like it was tied in a couple dozen knots, his head hurt with in a sort of dull, pounding way, and he had a sinking feeling. Like something was very wrong. 

Then it hit him. 

"Elen," he whispered. "Something's happened to Elen."

* * *

"Of course, when we actually find a road we end up going the wrong way along it!"

"We  _are_  going the right way! We were just on the wrong road before!"

_This is getting ridiculous,_ Cleva thought.  _It's not halfway into the morning and already they're arguing._

"Why don't you just go back to Bernicia, Ryle? Or wherever it is that you slink off to when you're not imposing your company on other people?"

" _Imposing,_ Your Flirtiness? I came along to  _help_  you!"

"And a fine lot of help you are!"

Cleva contemplated how much trouble she'd be in if she murdered the Crown Prince of Bernicia and...and whatever Ryle was because they were being annoying. _He definitely picked up the wrong map. Even so..._ Elen had sent word that they should meet her where the borders of Camelot, Escetir, and Mercia met. All right, so they had to go to the town nearest that location; all fine and simple if Aldwyn and Ryle would just agree on how to read the dreaded-map-which-was-likely-inaccurate. What wasn't so simple was that Elen had not contacted them since, though she'd promised to. It wasn't like her at all.

Since moving to Bernicia, Cleva had become a trusted member of the court and quite close to the royal family. Over the last few years, she'd kept particular watch on Elen. She found the haughty sorceress and her powers intriguing, and well...Elen was Gwaine's sister and a last link, so to speak.

Cleva glanced over her shoulder, realizing that Ryle and Aldwyn had fallen behind due to their bickering,  _yet again._

"Idiots, Cleva muttered, spurring her mount forward. _So what if they fall behind? They'll catch up_.

But she pulled her horse to a halt a few minutes later. Smoke was rising through the trees directly ahead, just the right amount of smoke for a campfire.

Whirling around, Cleva galloped her mount back along the road to where Ryle and Aldwyn were still arguing. They looked up, concerned, as she came hurrying up. "Campfire. Just ahead," she explained.

Instantly, both men went on the defensive. All three travelers dismounted. Aldwyn checked the sword hanging at his side, then grabbed his crossbow and a bag of bolts. Ryle wore a sword, too, but he didn't bother to draw it. Cleva pulled out her long dagger, almost wishing that she had a sword herself.  Minutes later, they were creeping through the trees towards the camp. Peering through the foliage, Cleva could make out the figures of horses and men clad in chain mail.  _There are more of them than there are of us._ She tightened her grip on her dagger.

"Knights of Camelot," Ryle said softly, gesturing toward the nearest figure: a dark-skinned man in a long red cloak.

It took Cleva a second to put it together. _Camelot. Pendragons_.  _Barclayns don't like Pendragons. Or their subjects._ Especially _not their knights._

Growling, Aldwyn leapt toward the camp. Cleva and Ryle followed him. While still hidden behind a tree, Aldwyn halted and yelled, "All of you drop your weapons! I've got a loaded crossbow and I'm not afraid to put it to use!"

From her hiding spot behind a bush, Cleva glimpsed a dark-haired man shoving someone behind a fallen log as the rest grabbed their weapons and began to look around wildly. "Who's there?" demanded a man with short blond hair.

"That is none of your concern at the moment! Drop your weapons!" Intimidation. That was the only advantage Aldwyn and his companions had right now. _Well, not the only advantage. But I doubt Ryle will..._

"I will do no such thing!" the blond man bellowed. 

Aldwyn roared back, "Now you listen here, you rotten…"

They might've started a shouting match right then and there, but then the person who'd been thrown down behind the log popped up into view.

Cleva gasped in recognition and Aldwyn nearly dropped his crossbow as a leaf-covered Elwin called, " _Aldwyn?_ "


	15. Chapter 14

The morning hadn't been going great to begin with.

Merlin hadn't gotten much sleep because Gwaine had been turning and tossing nearby all night. Far to weary to get up and move out of earshot, Merlin had stayed put. He knew why Gwaine couldn't settle down and he understood. He still wished he'd moved anyway. 

At first light that morning, Elyan, who had been on the last watch, discovered that one of the horses had managed to slip its tether and wander off in the dark. By the time the animal was found...it hadn't gotten very far, thankfully...it was going on midmorning.

Then somebody had come crashing through the trees, unhelpfully keeping just out of sight, and shouted at the top of his lungs that he had a loaded crossbow ready to fire. Naturally, none of the knights dropped their weapons. Rather, they took them out, ready for a fight. Arthur started shouting in return. Just as whoever it was with the crossbow started swearing at the king of Camelot, Elwin jumped up and yelled, " _Aldwyn?_ "

There was the sound of something being dropped, as well as branches and bushes being hastily shoved aside, and a tall, dark-haired man clad in nondescript brown and green bounded into the camp. "Elwin!" 

Stunned, the knights, Arthur, and Merlin stood and watched as Elwin ran forward and threw his arms around Aldwyn, who returned the embrace readily. But his eyes were scanning the camp. "Where's Everard?" he demanded. "Where is your brother?"

"I'm here!" The other twin emerged from behind the horses. He accepted a tight hug from his older brother and said, "Yes, Aldwyn, I'm haven't died...What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course! Where on earth were you? Are you all right?" Without waiting for an answer, Aldwyn glared around at the others. "If you hurt one hair on their heads…"

In their defense, the knights had already lowered their weapons.

"They rescued us," Elwin said, gripping his older brother's shoulder. "They're our friends."

Aldwyn relaxed only slightly after this assurance, and Everard went stiff and looked more worried than ever.

Two other people chose to enter the camp at that moment: an older man in a long brown cloak with scruffy dark hair, and a young woman with her jet black locks braided and wound around her head. She carried a loaded crossbow at arm's length. "Aldwyn, would you please unload this before it shoots someone?" Aldwyn took it from her, and she looked relieved. Yet she kept the long dagger she held in her other hand out and ready.

While he removed the bolt with practiced ease, Aldwyn continued to look around at the party from Camelot. "Introductions, anyone?" he said cheerfully. 

After a moment of exchanging glances with the assembled knights, Arthur stepped forward and held out his hand. "I'm Arthur Pendragon."

Aldwyn's jaw dropped, but he quickly collected himself and shook Arthur's hand. "Nice to meet you, Your Majesty," His voice had that polite yet haughty tone that Everard so often adopted. "As you may have gathered, I'm Aldwyn."

"Everard and Elwin's older brother. They mentioned you."

"How nice of them," Aldwyn grinned and tried to ruffle Elwin's hair; the boy ducked while Everard rolled his eyes. Aldwyn returned his attention to Arthur. "This is Cleva and that's Ryle," he said, gesturing to his companions. 

Merlin glanced over Ryle, then focused on Cleva.  _Is she the same Cleva Gwaine mentioned?_ From what he could see of the expression on Gwaine's face, Merlin would say yes.  _I wonder when they'll recognize him?_

Arthur continued the introductions, pointing out each person in turn. "This is Sir Leon," the blond knight nodded, "and Sir Elyan, and Sir Percival…and that's my manservant Merlin over there, looking scared and pathetic…and Sir Gwaine."

 Before, the newcomers had barely spared a glance anyone in the clearing save for the twins and Arthur. Now Aldwyn's eyes widened as they flew to the dark-haired knight, Cleva let out a startled gasp, and Ryle started  _smirking_. Somehow the expression worried Merlin.  _Is it possible that he knew about Gwaine already? And who is he, anyway?_ Gwaine had never mentioned anyone named Ryle.  _But now he looks like he's about to pass out._

He had an awful feeling that this situation would not turn out well. 

* * *

_Of all mornings, they just had to pick this one to show up._

The thought of running away again, right now, was rather appealing.Not only was he being faced down by his older cousin and former friend, his stomach was still churning with worry over his sister. Something was terribly wrong with Elen, and he couldn't do a thing about it. Since last night, it was all he could think about. Then Aldwyn and Cleva and that Ryle person had shown up.

He hadn't even realized who was pointing a crossbow at them until Elwin had shouted Aldwyn's name. The older man's voice was different. Or maybe Gwaine had just been gone too long…

Aldwyn had a beard to rival Uncle Harlan's now. Cleva had gone from a tiny girl to a sturdy, good-looking woman. Seeing them so changed...it _hurt._

_And how exactly do you think you look to them?_

The other knights were obviously startled by Aldwyn, Cleva, and Ryle's reactions. Cleva was gaping, Aldwyn was staring, his eyes growing wider and wider by the second as comprehension dawned on his face, and Ryle was smirking. Gwaine could care less about Ryle's feelings; he'd hardly ever spoken to the man in Bernicia despite his lurking about the royal castle. He was quite knowledgeable when it came to magical creatures and distant kingdoms, in other words, a useful source of information. But not a very savory personality.  _Maybe the creep's_   _seen me this far south before…Ugh, that's a scary thought, him spying on me…_ _And I'm just a word or two away from being revealed as Everard and Elwin's cousin, which will lead to a lot of extremely awkward questions. Questions I don't know if I can answer._

He didn't know how to get out of this situation. A glance at the twins showed him that they were equally lost as to what to do. Everard gave him a warning look and Elwin's gaze flitted nervously from Gwaine to Aldwyn.

However, the next move was not made by any of them.

Gwaine barely registered any movement before Cleva slammed into him, wrapping him in an embrace so tight that he was robbed of the capability to breathe. Coughing, he managed to gasp out, "Cleva…choking here…"

She released him and cuffed him over the back of the head. _Hard_. "You," she snarled, "are in _so_ much trouble." 

"Yeah, well...what else is new?" he said with a weak grin.

Cleva snorted and wiped her eyes. As she stepped back a little, he looked beyond her to gauge the reactions of the others. Aldwyn was still frozen, Ryle was still smirking, and Merlin and the twins looked worried. Arthur and the knights just looked confused. Elyan muttered something to Percival, who shrugged in response.

_Now what?_

Gwaine was pretty startled himself when Elwin, of all people, came to the rescue. "I  _told_  you, Everard!" he said, elbowing his brother. "It _was_  the same Gwaine!"

Moments later Gwaine was thanking all the higher powers he'd ever heard of that Elwin had such an overactive imagination and that Everard was so intuitive when it came to Elwin. The brown-eyed twin seemed to instantly pick up on his brother's scheme. "I didn't say that it  _wasn't_  him!" he protested. "I just said we ought to be sure before we start dumping accusations on him!"

"But we wouldn't be accusing him of anything! We would just be  _asking_ …"

Catching on, Gwaine said, "Ah, so I see we were avoiding asking each other roughly the same thing!" He grinned at Aldwyn. "I wondered if they were your brothers! Honestly, twins with the names Everard and Elwin? I really should have put it together and said something…"

"Must be all the ale you regularly consume. It's destroyed your common sense," Merlin chimed in.

Gwaine shot a grateful look at his friend as Elwin started talking again. "So you really are my brother's old friend? I didn't realize you knew Cleva, too."

By this point, Aldwyn's eyes were close to bugging out of his head, but Cleva's confusion had melted away into a mask of annoyance. "Of course I knew him!" the young woman snapped. "And  _you_ ," she glowered at Gwaine, "you need a lesson in being observant. Or in speaking up, perhaps."

Finally,  _finally_ , Aldwyn understood. "Come on, Cleva, it's  _Gwaine_. Unless hell's frozen over the last ten years or so, he probably needs a lesson in keeping his mouth shut."

Gwaine heard Leon mutter, "Can't argue with that."

Striding forward, Aldwyn reached out and gripped Gwaine's arm. Gwaine returned the gesture, forcing himself to meet his cousin's icy grey eyes. "Aldwyn, mate, when did you grow a beard?"

Aldwyn forced a smile. "Somewhere around the time I got married, co… _old friend_."

"Ah, yes. Braeden, Elwin said? Don't recall the name…"  _Liar, liar._

"I don't know if you met her ever, but she's lovely. Gorgeous, actually."

"I have no doubt of that, you self-important flirt."

"And I suppose you're breaking hearts left and right, pretentious rooster that you are."

_Never though I'd actually be happy to hear_ that _insult._ "Well, I learned from the best."

"So you two know each other?" Arthur broke into their exchange. 

Gwaine turned to the king, mouth suddenly dry. "Why, yes, Arthur, we do. Aldwyn and I used to be very good friends years and years ago…"

"Before you decided to wander off to Lord knows where and never sent any word on your whereabouts, you utter fool." Aldwyn punched Gwaine's arm.

Gwaine hit him back.  _This_ , at least, felt familiar. "That's  _Sir_  Gwaine to you, Aldwyn!"

_I am so dead._

* * *

Aldwyn and Gwaine clasped arms like old companions...which they were, in a way...and joked with each other for a minute. Then they began to patch together a rather rambling tale of them being friends back in Bernicia while the twins interjected with their own comments every so often. Cleva, as she was not called upon to contribute to the conversation, took the time to scrutinize each of the travelers from Camelot in turn.  _So Percival's the big one who looks confused, Elyan's the dark-skinned one who looks even more confused, Leon has longer blond hair and he looks intrigued…King Arthur's fairly obvious,_ he _just looks interested…the manservant, Merlin, he looks nice enough…Funny, he looks worried, more so than the others…And he keeps looking at Gwaine like he's going to go up in smoke at any second…_

"…I appreciate what you have done for my brothers, but there is no need for you to go any further." Aldwyn's clipped tones called Cleva back to the current discussion. "You may return to your city if you wish; we'll take the twins from here."

Cleva inhaled sharply.  _The Pendragon and his knights will go back to Camelot…and Gwaine will go with them. We'll never see him again. "Old friend" wouldn't be enough justification for him to come with us…What is Aldwyn thinking?_  His expression was so stony right now that even his wife would probably have trouble deciphering what was in his head.  _Is he forgetting that Gwaine's technically not with us? Or is he planning to leave him behind? Could he really be that angry with his cousin? I am, a little, but I'm not a Barclayn so it's easier to put that aside..._

King Arthur spoke then, drawing her attention. "Unless you have some grudge against us, I would still like to help escort the twins back to your homeland."

"And why is that?" Aldwyn said, oozing suspicion. 

_He's really not helping._

Oddly enough, Arthur Pendragon was a decently patient fellow and didn't get offended by Aldwyn's tone. "I like to finish what I've started," he said. "Besides, you'll be safer traveling with more than a couple companions, and I must admit, I've become rather interested in visiting Bernicia."

_Is that a threat?_ Cleva didn't think so, but Aldwyn kept his guarded expression. "Well, if you put it that way…" He scanned the assembled company; coming to rest, on Gwaine. "Everard, Elwin, what do you say?" 

Cleva suppressed a chuckle at the identical blank looks on the twins' faces. "You're actually asking us for our opinion?" Elwin asked, eyes wide. He grinned. "This," he said at the knights, "…is an incredible turn of events. Never before has our dear but portentous older brother…"

Everard cut his brother off. "I say let them come with us. It would probably be safer, since we have so far to go."

As Aldwyn turned from his brother back to Arthur, Cleva caught Everard's eye and gestured with her head in Gwaine's direction. The teenager nodded slightly. 

_So that_ is _why._  Cleva took a deep breath...partly in relief, partly to steel herself for whatever lay ahead.  _We'll have Gwaine in sight for a while longer, at least._

* * *

Only an hour or so after Aldwyn Barclayn and his companions had descended upon the camp, the company set off. Arthur and Ryle took the lead, after the dark-haired man had a long argument with Aldwyn over the merits of that idea. Watching them, Merlin figured that Aldwyn only surrendered so that he could ride behind and talk with his brothers. The man's concern showed in his apparent unwillingness to take his eyes off of them, his constant inquires after their health...he was aghast when he learned that Elwin had been hurt, much to the younger boy's dismay...and in the way he often reached out to lay a hand on Everard or Elwin's shoulder as if to assure himself that they were still riding next to him.

Merlin found it quite touching. And listening to the twins sigh every time Aldwyn asked them yet again if they were all right was a bit funny. 

As for the others...Cleva seemed nice enough; at least she was polite. Ryle had already shown himself as very rude and as the sort of person to make sly, sarcastic, and offensive comments towards anyone at any time. 

Gwaine rode behind the rest, hardly speaking. Merlin knew he was thinking of Elen, convinced by some strange internal sense she was in terrible trouble. This worried Merlin, too; he of all people understood the value of such instincts.   

_Well, she was going to Bernicia, wasn't she? Now we're going there. Maybe we'll find her on the way. Maybe we can get her out of whatever trouble she's landed herself in._ Merlin hoped so. Elen might have tried to kill him, but she was Gwaine's sister. Gwaine was his friend. And Merlin was loyal to his friends.  _But what will Gwaine do if he's forced to choose between his duty as a Knight of Camelot and his family?_

That was a question that Merlin felt even Gwaine didn't know the answer to. 


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist time! I won't spoil it, even though I think it's pretty obvious ;)

It was another lovely evening. Most of the knights lounged about, resting after their hard day's ride. Ryle had slipped off into the woods as he tended to, while Everard and Elwin were sparring with swords, supervised by a anxious Aldwyn and an amused Leon. Only two of the travelers were actually working.

Cleva handed Merlin a handful of herbs she'd found, and he took them with a grateful smile. For the last four days, they had been sharing cooking duties. It worked out well because it was easy for them to get along. Merlin was, Cleva had learned, rather sweet. And Gwaine seemed to be avoiding everyone except the manservant. 

As for the others...Aldwyn had managed to behave like an ass towards just about everyone but his younger brothers and Arthur; the latter was only because Aldwyn had to have some semblance of respect for a king that he wasn't at war with. Ryle was no better; in fact, he was worse because he never even tried being polite to anyone at all. Making up for that, the twins were friendly towards the knights of Camelot.  Everard and Elwin had made themselves liked already. Elwin lightened everyone's mood whenever possible, while Everard saved the conversation in several awkward moments. Said moments tended to occur whenever Arthur got to close to the subjects of  _magic_ and  _royalty_ in relation to the kingdom of Bernicia, and Aldwyn would respond with uncomfortable silence.

Cleva had decided to cast in her lot with the twins and befriend the knights (though she avoided the king). They all seemed good and honorable men, and Percival and Elyan weren't even nobles. On the second day of traveling with the men from Camelot, she'd heard the story of how the commoner knights had helped Arthur retake Camelot when the witch Morgana took over the first time.

"He knighted four of us the night before we went back to Camelot," Elyan had explained. "Lancelot…he died a year or so ago…he was a good man…then Gwaine, then me and Percival. Even though we were commoners." Elyan had laughed a little, "Arthur admitted beforehand that it wasn't something his father would approve of."

Cleva had wondered if Uther Pendragon would be more offended at the idea of Gwaine the commoner or Gwaine Barclayn being a Knight of Camelot.  _His friends clearly don't know that he's a noble._ She understood why. If she was Gwaine, she'd keep her identity secret in Camelot, too.  _But I wish he'd talk to me about it._ _I've missed him. A lot._

"Cleva?" Cleva shook herself from her thoughts and looked up into Merlin's concerned blue eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She forced a quick smile and said, "Yes, I'm fine…just…" Her eyes flickered over to where Gwaine was leaning against a pile of saddlebags, watching Elwin and Everard fight.

Merlin followed her gaze. "Gwaine?" he murmured.

"Yes. Him and Aldwyn. And the whole bloody business."

Merlin didn't ask what business she meant.  _Does he know...everything?_ _It's not my place to explain it if he doesn't._ Still, it couldn't hurt to let a little of her worry out…

"You can trust me," Merlin said, as if reading her thoughts.

Cleva stirred the pot of stew. "You know, Aldwyn's not usually like this with his brothers." After a short pause, she clarified, "I mean, he's usually not so…easy on them. He's always been a good brother to them; you know, taking them on hunts, teaching them to use a crossbow…But usually he's...a bit hard on them, I suppose. Now he fusses over them constantly. It's a bit unnerving. For me, at least. It's…" Cleva made a frustrated gesture with one hand. "Aldwyn and his sister Haralda…They're kind of, well,  _rough_  with everyone. Especially the twins. And now Aldwyn's getting nervous if they ride their horses at a gallop…"

Merlin nodded. "I suppose it's normal...I mean, before you lot met up with us, for all he knew they were dead. I'd say he's just very relieved."

"You're right," Cleva said. "Of course, he's relieved that they're okay; so am I, to be honest. But then there's the way he's treating Gwaine…Like he's done something wrong. Well, I can kind of see why…" Cleva glanced around to make sure none of the knights were close enough to be eavesdropping. "Um…Aldwyn and his family…they don't like Pendragons much…just on principle…"

"I think I get that...Since they're Barclayns, who allow magic in their kingdom…"

Cleva blinked. "So, you know that Aldwyn is Gwaine's cousin and that they're…"

"They're part of the royal family of Bernicia?" Merlin nodded. "Gwaine told me…not too long ago, after the...before that he'd lied to me." For an instant, a flash of anger crossed the easygoing man's face.

Cleva was prevented from asking exactly lies Gwaine had told Merlin by Arthur Pendragon's enthusiastic yell of, "Merlin! Is that stew nearly ready or not?"

* * *

Gwaine scooped up a spoonful of thick stew, stared at it for a moment, then dropped the spoon back into the bowl. His stomach was churning so much that didn't think he could eat anything without throwing it up.  _Damn it, Elen, what the hell is going on?_

Once, long ago, shared dreams and sensing each other's emotions had been normal for Elen and Gwaine. Mostly, he attributed it to her magic and their boundless desire to poke their noses into each other's business. After a few years, however, Gwaine's ability to tell what his sister was thinking had seemingly vanished. They had drifted apart; she became their mother's student, learning the art of magic, and he became his father's pupil, learning the rules of state while he learned to use a sword. The siblings had, so to speak, gone their separate ways. Until that strange incident in the cloudy dreamscape, Gwaine hadn't spoken to his sister in a dream for years and years. And he blamed _that_  on Gaius's sleeping potion.

Yet he was now sensing Elen's emotions again...right now, overwhelmingly. 

_Terror. Pain. Loneliness._   _Mostly pain._ If someone had hurt his sister… _I'll kill them. I'll find them and I'll kill them slowly and painfully._

No one seemed to notice his uneasiness. Around him, the other members of the company ate their dinner, talked, and laughed. Even Aldwyn seemed to relax and let out a chuckle when Elwin made a joke about Camelot cloaks and what perfect targets they must be. Gwaine looked back down at his stew and swallowed. He really should eat; the journey ahead would only get harder and he'd need his strength. He just couldn't bring himself to.

"Seasoning not to your liking, Gwaine?" Elyan called from across the campfire. "You're making quite a face at that stew!"

"Maybe we should get Merlin to fetch some herbs that better suit Gwaine's taste!" joked Percival.

The other knights laughed, and Gwaine forced a smile before forcing himself to swallow a spoonful of the food. Another subject came up among the others, but Gwaine noticed Merlin staring at him. He was grateful when, a couple minutes later, Merlin stood up and said to the camp in general, "I'm going to get more firewood. Does anyone want to come with me?"

_A perfect excuse to get out of the camp for a bit_. "Sure, mate, I'll come along. Can't guarantee I'll be much help, though," Gwaine managed a joke as he  put down his bowl, stood up, and walked over to join Merlin.

Ryle, seated on a log at the very edge of the camp, smirked and said, as Merlin and Gwaine walked past him into the forest, "Someone that scrawny shouldn't be out alone. Probably a good thing a knight's going with him." 

Gwaine paused, tempted to give Ryle a nice black eye for the comment. Then he heard Elyan exclaim, "Excuse me? Merlin may not be a knight, but he's stronger than he looks, you know!"

"Is that so?" Ryle shot back.

Satisfied by the resulting clamor that the manservant would be well-defended in his absence, Gwaine hurried after his friend. Once they were out of earshot of the camp, Merlin stopped and turned to him. "You don't look well, Gwaine. Is it your sister?"

"It's getting worse." 

"Have you heard her voice in your head again?"

Indicating the negative, Gwaine began to scour the forest floor for firewood, avoiding Merlin's gaze. No, he hadn't heard Elen's voice. He almost wished that he would. He could learn more from words than mere emotions, no matter how strong.

"Do you have any idea where she is?"

"No, Merlin. I've told you a hundred times. I don't know!" Quickly regretting his words, he took a deep breath to calm himself and turned to face his friend again. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I know you only want to help."

"Help with what?"

Gwaine spun around. Aldwyn came sauntering through the trees, swinging a long stick in his right hand. "We need to talk," he added when it became clear that neither Merlin nor Gwaine were going to answer his query. His gaze flickered from Gwaine's face to Merlin and back again.

Gwaine tried to remain calm as he stooped to pick up another piece of wood. "Whatever you have to say to me,  _cousin_ , you can say in front of Merlin."

"Really." Aldwyn started smacking the stick he held against the nearest tree.

"Yes, really!" 

"Gwaine," Merlin said, "If you need me to leave…"

"No, you can stay here, Merlin, I meant that. Aldwyn, if you want to talk, start talking." Gwaine straightened and looked straight into his cousin's eyes.

Aldwyn glowered at him. "Well then, here goes…You became a knight of Camelot. I ought to beat you up for that." 

"You're welcome to try," Gwaine replied icily. "You might lose; I'm not fifteen anymore." 

"But a knight of  _Camelot_?"

"You sound like Everard." Behind him, Gwaine could hear Merlin collecting fallen branches for firewood, but he was obviously listening. Somehow Gwaine found that a comfort. "He asked me how I could serve a Pendragon."

"With good reason!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"He's a _Pendragon_ , Gwaine!" Aldwyn snarled. "He's the son of Uther! A man who, in secret, threatened Bernicia with war over refugees from his Great Purge!"  _Well, that's news to me._  "Thank God he was a coward…and didn't bother his son with that information…"

"Precisely! Arthur has never threatened Bernicia! He barely knows anything about it! Also, he's a good man, an honorable man. He does not pursue those with magic across distant borders like they're wild animals!"

"That may be the case now. But had Arthur been old enough to fight at the time of the Great Purge, do you think he would have hesitated to chase after your mother?"

"Don't bring Mother into this! That's beside the point, anyway. I serve Arthur as one of his knights of my own free will. He is nothing like Uther was!"

"Oh, so you met the snake himself, then?"

"Yeah, he tried to execute me."

Gwaine couldn't help but feel a bit of triumph at Aldwyn's reaction. The prince was practically spluttering as he said, "He…he  _dared_? He wanted to execute a  _Barclayn_? That  _bastard_!"

"He didn't know I was a Barclayn, Aldwyn."  _I don't like to remember that particular run-in with Uther Pendragon. B_

Aldwyn's eyes narrowed. "What did you do, anyway?"

"Oh, I attacked a couple of nobles. Though it turned out later that they weren't who they said they were at all…"

Aldwyn appeared to be, of all things,  _offended_. "Well, I hope you realize that if Uther had executed you and we found out, Father would've started a war."

_Whole lot of comfort that would have been to_ me _._ "Is this the right time to let you know that Arthur was the one who talked his father out of it? If it weren't for Arthur, I'd be dead."

"Humph." Aldwyn glared at Gwaine for a minute, then drew in a loud breath. "Why the hell did you run, cousin?"

Gwaine went cold all over and nearly forgot his roiling stomach. "Must you ask?" he said dully. "Seems pretty obvious to me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Merlin had abandoned the pretense of gathering more wood and was standing still, watching the exchange.

"Yes, I can understand how you must've been terrified, but running off like that? Coming back only to flee again? That…that  _hurt_ , damn you! Did it occur to you that we might be worried? That we might wonder where you were and if you were still alive?" Aldwyn's voice sounded desperate. 

_Coming back just to run again? That didn't happen, but..._ Gwaine found himself unable to meet his cousin's eyes. "I didn't come back even once, Aldwyn, but that's...In any case, I didn't...don't deserve your worry." 

His cousin didn't seem to hear him. "Father sent men after you, you know! And I tried to find you, too…more than once. You were too good at covering your tracks. Gwaine, you shouldn't have…"

"You don't have to tell me that I'm a fool and a coward! I know that well enough already!" Gwaine's voice cracked.  _Don't even think about crying…in front of Aldwyn it would be so humiliating…_

Aldwyn's face suddenly contorted in pain. "Damn it all, Gwaine, it was a bloody  _accident_. If it was anyone's fault, it was those bandits who attacked you! No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!"

* * *

It took a minute for Merlin to understand why Gwaine's face had gone so white.

_No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!_

_By the Great Dragon!_ Merlin gasped as it hit him.  _Gwaine's father...isn't dead?_ _But…how?_

Merlin was snapped from his thoughts by Aldwyn's panicked exclamation. "Gwaine? Are you all right?"

Gwaine looked close to collapse. "Father is… _alive_?" he choked out.

Aldwyn looked bewildered. "What? Gwaine, what do you…" His breath caught. "Oh, dear God," he whispered. "You _didn't_ come back; that _wasn't_ you. You thought he…you didn't know that he survived?"

Instead of responding, Gwaine stared at nothing for a few long moments. Merlin considered putting down his armful of firewood, just in case the knight fell over and needed someone to catch him.

"Gwaine…" Aldwyn said, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize... _we_ didn't realize…" He made an impulsive move forward.

Gwaine back away. "No…"

"Gwaine, I…"

"Leave me alone!" Gwaine shouted, throwing the words at his cousin like rocks. He turned and strode away from them, not running, but moving swiftly enough to almost disappear into the surrounding trees seconds later. Merlin and Aldwyn stared after him. 

The Bernician prince shook himself out of his shocked state first. "I'm following him," he stated.

Merlin made a decision and stepped into Aldwyn's path. "No, you're not going after him; _I_ am. Take this back to the camp." He shoved his armful of firewood at the prince, who took it reflexively.

"Excuse me, but he's  _my_  cousin, not yours, and I…"

"And you've upset him enough already for one day." Merlin faced the older man and added in a gentler tone, "He shouldn't be alone right now. I think we both agree on that, but I honestly don't think you'd be able to help him."

"And you think that _you_ can?" Aldwyn shot back.

_Well…_ "Look, I'm sorry, but…I think that I know him better than you do. I mean…"

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean, Merlin." Aldwyn looked into the woods for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Go on, then. I…we don't want him to run off again, now do we?"  
Merlin nodded slightly. "Take that wood back to camp, will you?" He started off through the trees.


	17. Chapter 16

_Breathe…_

Gwaine sat slumped against a tree, his breathing ragged. The forest keep tipping sideways, as if he'd been at the ale again. _But I haven't been drunk in weeks._ _Just keep breathing...this isn't the time to be passing out in the middle of the forest…_ He shivered despite the air not being particularly cold. Shock, anger, and confusion kept him breathless despite it all feeling far away, under the numbness.

He kept reliving that moment when Aldwyn had shouted the truth at him, like he was expected to know it already. 

_My father is alive._

It didn't seem real. The nightmare that had lasted ten years hadn't left yet.   _Unless this is the dream and that the reality?_ Everything was all so blurry and muddled like the other memories pressing down on him.

_His father teaching him to ride a horse._

_His father in the council chamber with the king, staring down a deranged man who had tried to murder the queen._

_His father showing him how to disarm an opponent in a swordfight._

_His father listening with a smile to a story Aunt Gytha was telling._

_His father calling out orders to the guards._

_His father riding through the woods on high alert, intent on the hunt._

_His father sparring with four knights at once; and winning._

_His father laughing at something Harlan had said._

_His father comforting him and Elen when they were very young and frightened during a fierce windstorm._

_His father on the ground, bright red blood seeping across the earth._

He should be overjoyed. Instead, he was scared. 

_"No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!"_

_Is that true? Or was Aldwyn just saying that?_

"Gwaine? Where are you?"

Gwaine looked up at the sound of Merlin's voice, just in time to see the warlock trip over a tree root and fall flat.

"You alright there, mate?" Gwaine couldn't help but smile a bit as he stood up to assist the other man.

"Yeah." Merlin dusted himself off and ducked his head sheepishly before taking on a concerned expression. "The real question is, are you all right?"

Gwaine failed to hold back a scoff. "Oh, yes, I'm absolutely  _wonderful_  right now, Merlin."

Merlin flinched. "Sorry."

Guiltily, Gwaine looked down at the ground and replied, "No, I'm sorry, Merlin…it's just…" He paused, not sure what to say. Merlin didn't try to force a conversation; he just stood there, waiting.

It took Gwaine a long time to start speaking again. "For the longest time now…I've felt like there's this trail of blood following me everywhere…It started with my father, then on to the other people I killed, because sometimes I had to...It seemed like every person I even pretended to get close to ended up worse off than before they met me. Until I ran into you and Arthur, I guess. I saved the his life, and yours…then I ended up a knight; and I felt that maybe I actually could belong in Camelot…And now I know that I didn't kill my father. I didn't have to run away. Anything I've been telling myself for the last ten years is a lie. Except…I still hurt him. I still stabbed him and he could have very easily died as I believed he did. And now…nothing makes sense anymore." Gwaine looked away, not trusting his voice any longer.

Merlin spoke a few moments later. "Exactly; he's  _not_  dead, Gwaine. You didn't kill him. It was an accident and you running off was a…a misunderstanding."

_Some misunderstanding._   _A misunderstanding which stole ten years of my life._

Before that one rainy day, Gwaine's future had always been predictable. He had known what was expected of him. He hadn't had a problem with that. It had been an accepted fact that he would eventually become a knight of Bernicia and perhaps one day an advisor to the future king. Even if he didn't achieve advisor status, which back then seemed a likely thing, his future was secure.

But after that day, nothing had been certain.

_Speaking of the future king of Bernicia_ …"Where's Aldwyn?" 

"I didn't think you'd want to talk to him, so I told him to go back to the camp with the firewood."

_He's right; I don't think I could talk to Aldwyn right now._ "Thanks," he said.

"What are friends for?"

* * *

Cleva was just starting to clean the dinner dishes when Aldwyn came trudging back into camp with an armful of firewood, which he dumped unceremoniously next to the fire pit. Ignoring any and all inquires from the others he marched over to where Everard and Elwin were sitting, grabbed each by the arm, and dragged them to where the horses were tethered a short distance away. He looked enraged. 

Usually, Cleva wouldn't take much note of this sort of behavior; it was normal amongst the brothers. But she'd been concerned ever since Aldwyn had followed Merlin and Gwaine into the woods.  _What if Aldwyn decides to confront Gwaine for being a traitor or something similar?_ The fact that he'd returned alone and in a huff didn't comfort her. _Something happened_. And, wanting to know what, she left the dishes and followed the three Barclayns over to the horses.

"Why didn't you  _tell_  him?" Aldwyn was saying as Cleva approached, giving both his brothers a shake.

"Tell who what? And that  _hurts_ , Aldwyn!" Elwin said, trying to tug his arm from the man's grip.

Aldwyn sighed and released them. Cleva snorted.  _Well, of course he's going to release them if they say it hurts. As I told Merlin, he's acting soft._

However, there was nothing soft about Aldwyn's voice when he spoke. "Exactly how much have you been speaking with Gwaine? Everard?"

The more responsible twin didn't hesitate. "Not much. I've…We've been keeping our distance, mostly. Gwaine and I had at least one long conversation…mostly about what the hell he was doing in Camelot, but other than that…We haven't talked about home at all, really. For instance, I don't think he knew about Hertha until we were already traveling and Elwin mentioned her to the knights."

"He  _didn't_  know about her." Elwin said. "Didn't you see his face? He looked like you could knock him over with a…with a meat pie." 

Cleva recalled a hazy image of Everard with the remains of a meat pie smeared into his hair.  _I can't really remember when that had happened, but Hertha was probably involved…_

"Well, you should have talked to him a bit more," Aldwyn snarled, ignoring Elwin's half-joke, "and told  _me_  what he remembered of home. That way I would have known to break the news that his father is alive to him a  _little_  more gently than I did. Or  _you_  could have told him that and saved me the trouble."

" _What?_ " Everard and Elwin exclaimed at the same time.

"He thought his father was…" Cleva couldn't finish the sentence.

"The rumors that he came back to Bernicia months after... _Untrue_." Aldwyn ran a hand through his hair. "He didn't find out...he honestly thought Uncle Goddard was dead. He thought he killed his father in that little 'accident'." 

"He believed that he killed his father," Everard said. Elwin, went pale and moved a couple inches closer to his brother.

Cleva was still contemplating Aldwyn's words. "How did you tell him, exactly?" Then, remembering the emphasis Aldwyn had placed on a particular word, "Aldwyn! You don't honestly think that he did it  _on purpose_ , do you?"

"Keep your voice down!" the prince snapped as the heads of the Camelot group turned towards them. Lowering his own voice, he said, "Cleva, don't believe for one second that I'm accusing my own cousin of intentionally harming his father. Gwaine would never do such a thing. It's just…it's so bloody  _stupid_ in hindsight…" He glared at nothing for a moment before adding, "I just told him that no one blamed him including his father and he kind of…lost it. That's when I realized…" He trailed off with a sigh.

"No wonder he ran off," Everard murmured softly.

_Yes, no wonder._ A heavy, cold feeling settled in Cleva's stomach.  _All these years we wondered how he could have just up and ran, even given the circumstances…But he was calling himself a murderer…_ She was tempted to go after Gwaine herself. Then she realized that she didn't know  _where_  he was. "Aldwyn," she asked, "did he run off or…"

"No, he just kind of walked away from me and Merlin…he trusts that manservant, apparently…Merlin went after him."

"Will he be all right?" Elwin said timidly. 

Aldwyn hesitated before answering. "I hope so."

Everard gave his older brother an unreadable look before heading back to the glowing campfire. Elwin trailed after him, leaving Cleva and Aldwyn alone. The prince seemed more vulnerable than Cleva had ever seen him before. "Do you think he'll be all right, Cleva?" he said, his grey eyes suspiciously misty.

Cleva looked down at her boots, not certain if she should reply or not. Finally, she said, "You were right; no one blames him."

"I wonder if he really believes that. Even though it's the truth. The look on his face…"

_Oh, Gwaine. No one ever blamed you, so you shouldn't blame yourself._ But she knew well enough that it was never that easy.

* * *

The mood in the camp the next morning as they prepared to depart was…less than cheerful, to say in the least.

_Well, I guess the good weather is wasted on this lot, then,_ Merlin mused. The day was lovely, the sun bright, the sky clear blue dotted with wispy white clouds, and the breeze warm and sweet-smelling.

Amongst the travelers, tensions were running high.

Gwaine hadn't spoken a word since last night and wasn't responding to anyone. Everard was ignoring Aldwyn in an obvious manner. Aldwyn and Ryle had had three verbal altercations already; the last one would've turned into a fistfight if it hadn't been for the intervention of Percival and Leon. Cleva seemed frustrated with the behavior of everyone else, particularly when she tried to talk to Gwaine and he shrugged her off. Elwin was very quiet and his eyes were suspiciously red. Everard was so busy ignoring Aldwyn and Aldwyn was so busy arguing with Ryle that neither was paying attention to their brother.

Around noon as they were headed northward in more or less of a line, Merlin noticed that Elwin was riding alone and urged his horse to walk next to the boy's. "Hey, Elwin."

"Merlin," Elwin said without looking at him. 

"What's the matter?" Merlin prodded. "I promise not to tell anyone, if that helps."

Instead of an answer, he got another question. "Does Gwaine really trust you?"

Merlin glanced around to make sure that no one was listening before saying, "Yes, I…I like to think that he does."

"Hmm." Elwin hesitated. "You know, I was just…Last night and this morning, I was just thinking…of how awful it would be if I thought that I'd been responsible for the death of one of my parents."

Merlin rested his hand on Elwin's shoulder, and a look of understanding passed between them. The boy cheered up somewhat after that.

* * *

"Good morning. It's not often that I see you this far from the city, my lord." Hayden took care to keep his voice at a respectful monotone that didn't betray his surprise. It wasn't every day that a person ran across one of the royal family  _alone_  in the woods nearest the city. Particularly if that person was Goddard Barclayn.

The gray-haired prince smiled and nodded in greeting. His fatigue was obvious by the way he leaned heavily against a tree. "Hayden. Good to see you. Which one is that?" He gestured towards the young wyvern scampering around the tree trunks, hunting for insects.

"Topaz. He's Obsidian and Citrine's offspring."

"Is Obsidian the one that ate my saddle all those years ago? I'm still amazed that he didn't try that while it was still on the horse."

Hayden smiled. "Emerald helped, as I recall."

 "Ah, yes, Emerald. I remember  _him_ because…" The older man trailed off, his expression troubled.

Hayden looked away.  _Emerald's the one Gwaine liked the best._

An awkward silence later, Hayden worked up the nerve to ask, "What brings you out here, my lord?"

"No need to 'my lord' me, Hayden, I've known you too long." Goddard sighed. "I get tired of the city, sometimes. And it's not so easy to leave it anymore." His gaze distant. he said, "It's hard to be a cripple, Hayden."

_What am I supposed to say to that?_

As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything. Goddard started talking again. "I shouldn't say that. I'm not really crippled, just weaker than I used to be. Walking only hurts; it's still possible. I'm being ungrateful."

_Even when he's upset, he never raises his voice._

Topaz went a little farther into the trees than Hayden was comfortable with; he whistled and the little creature came scurrying back. Hayden held out his arm and the wyvern scrambled up in onto his shoulder.

When Hayden redirected his attention back to Goddard, the older man was watching him with a sad expression. "I'd better be headed back to the city. It was nice seeing you, Hayden."

"Likewise. Would you…Do you want me to come with you?" 

Goddard shook his head. "It's not necessary. As I said, I'm not really a cripple." The prince reached out and patted the head of the wyvern perched on Hayden's shoulders before turning and walking slowly away through the trees.

Hayden sighed as he watched him go. "Lesson number one, Topaz," he told the animal, who was now nuzzling his neck. "Barclayns are ridiculously stubborn."

* * *

The combined smell of sweat, vomit, and mildew permeated the lower levels of the ancient castle. The soft dripping sound of water echoed against the slimy stone walls.The guards were playing cards again as they drank watered-down ale. They complained about the weakness of the drink but belched appreciatively after every deep gulp. They were disgusting. They made Elen sick.

_Everything makes you sick right now._

"Everything" included the light which was filtering through the tiny cracks high in the cell wall. Elen whimpered and doubled over on the floor, covering her head with her hands. But even her slow, careful movements set off another wave of nausea and body pain.  _Just kill me now and end it._

What a fool she had been. The buyer was in the north; his henchman must have been in the south, prepared to collect the boys.  _It's clever, I'll give him that._ She didn't want to give him anything else. Not information, not satisfaction. The latter she had no choice on, though… _I've never been this pathetic…_ They'd had the enchanted shackles ready for just such a prisoner as herself. They were on her day and night, preventing her from using her magic.

_Just another thing I've done wrong. I allowed myself to become so dependent on magic as a means of defense that I'm useless without it._

She'd tried reaching out for her brother, hoping against hope that whatever happenstance had allowed her to contact her brother in a dream recently would allow it again. But as far as she knew, no good had come of it.  _Oh, Gwaine…I'm sorry…_ Though she could not, in her present state of mind, quite pinpoint exactly what she was sorry for.

Another waved of pain racked her damaged body.  _Why can't I just die in my sleep?_ That would stop her from telling the enemy anything that could bring harm to her family and country. It would also thwart the enemy from using her against anyone. But so would escaping... _I wish I could manage that..._

As she heard another guard arrive and give the order for her to be taken out of her cell again, all Elen wanted was for the nightmare to end.

Even if that meant dying.


	18. Chapter 17

They ran into a group of bandits the very next day.

"What is it with bandits around these parts?" Aldwyn bellowed as he shot one with his crossbow.

"I haven't the slightest clue!" Arthur shouted back. "Form ranks!" 

At his command, the members of the company maneuvered their horses to form a half-circle, facing the bandits coming from at least three directions. Merlin retreated behind the knights, looking out for branches to fell with magic, should the need arise. Also forced behind the knights were Elwin and Everard, both with daggers clenched in their fists. Lady Cleva joined them and pulled out her own. 

_Well, isn't this just a regular trip?_

The bandits turned out to be a pathetic lot; several of them took off running when they realized exactly how many armed men they had run into. The others were dispatched after a few minutes of clanging swords, whistling arrows, and snorting horses. Merlin didn't even feel the need to risk using magic. Until one bandit managed to yank Gwaine out of his saddle and threw him to the ground.

Merlin urged his rearing mount forward just as Elwin let out a shriek. " _Cousin!_ "

In response to Elwin's cry, Aldwyn twisted around on his horse's back, took in the situation with a single glance, and threw himself off his mount and onto the thug who was about to run Gwaine through. He knocked over Gwaine's attacker, but the move sent him tumbling straight into the path of more bandits.  
"Aldwyn!" Elwin was half-off his horse before Cleva caught his arm. Everard started yelling at his younger brother to  _stay put_  while clearly debating on whether or not to try running to his older brother.

Merlin cast a panicky glance around; all the other knights were occupied with their own opponents, and Aldwyn was still fumbling around on the forest floor, trying to regain his sword...he'd already dropped his crossbow...and his footing.  _Leaving him to die because of one foolhardy action is not an option._  Taking a breath, Merlin summoned his magic. He didn't have to use it.

Seconds before Aldwyn would have lost his head to a battleaxe, Gwaine rose up and lunged to his cousin's defense.

* * *

It was easy to fight alongside Aldwyn again. Gwaine found himself back to back with his cousin, moving in tandem to attack, defend, attack again.  _Just like old times training together...me and him against Father and Uncle Harlan._ They'd never won those fights.  _Still, we were a good team._ When they faced each other for a moment in the middle of the skirmish, his cousin flashed him a quick grin, telling him that he had same thoughts. For a fraction of an instant, Gwaine smiled back.

The noise of the battle vanished suddenly, as it always seemed to. The last bandits had fled or been killed, leaving the group panting, still gripping their weapons and scanning the woods for more foes.

Gwaine turned to Aldwyn. "You alright, cousin?" he asked softly.

Aldwyn nodded. "You?"

"I'm fine."  _Though_   _I do appear to have a nasty cut on my right arm._ _And now that I've noticed,_ _it's starting to hurt._

"Is everyone okay?" Arthur called. "Gwaine? You were pulled off your mount!"

"I'm all right, Arthur," Gwaine told him. A cursory glance told him that everyone else was fine, too, except…where were the twins?

He figured out where they were a second later when Elwin shot past him and crashed into Aldwyn.

"Easy there, little brother!" Aldwyn said, but Elwin did not loosen his grip as he buried his face in the sleeve of his older brother's tunic. Aldwyn glanced up, meeting Gwaine's gaze as they both realized that the younger boy was crying and trying not to show it. Discomfited, Gwaine turned away only to find Everard standing close, looking shaky. "You nearly died." The boy's voice was no more than a whisper.

"Well, I didn't." Another look around and Gwaine realized that almost everyone was staring at Aldwyn, the twins, and him. The exceptions were Cleva, who was occupied with trying calm her horse, and Ryle, who was staring off into the trees with a blank, bored expression on his face.  _To hell with the stares_ , Gwaine thought as he stepped forward and pulled Everard into a quick embrace. "We're still alive, Ev."

"I know." Everard managed a fleeting smile before walking over to pry Elwin off of their older brother.

Gwaine turned around again to find Arthur giving him a shrewd look. "Hey, Princess, shouldn't we be checking to see if all the thugs are dead or not?"

They didn't travel much further that day. Elwin was still shaky, Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine had sustained minor injuries, and everyone was exhausted. As soon as they found a suitable clearing next to a stream, they stopped and set up camp.

Gwaine was sitting, his back to a large tree, apart from the others, when Aldwyn walked up and handed him a bowl of the stew Merlin and Cleva had prepared. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved." Plopping down  against the tree, the prince began to devour his own portion of stew.

"Fighting will do that," Gwaine said.

Aldwyn laughed through a mouthful of food. "Hey, admit it; a horde of bandits is  _nothing_  compared to the combined might of our fathers on training day!"

Gwaine snorted in amusement, drawing the attention of Percival and Leon, who were examining their weapons nearby. When they looked away again, Gwaine swallowed and asked Aldwyn, "How is he?" His voice was too quiet. 

Aldwyn heard him anyway. "You mean Uncle Goddard?"

"Yeah. You said…that he doesn't…doesn't blame me for what…what happened. Is that true?"

"Yes." Aldwyn shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

Reading the movement as more than just an badly-placed root, Gwaine said, "What aren't you telling me, Aldwyn?"

"It's nothing, Gwaine."

"Like hell it is." When Aldwyn wouldn't look at him, Gwaine hissed, "Tell me!"

Aldwyn looked up, but at the tree branches above. "Uncle Goddard…" he began, "…your father…he's, um…"

" _What?_ " Gwaine just about shouted it. 

Sighing at the number of gazes turned in their direction, Aldwyn said in a low tone, "Gwaine, your father isn't…well. He's…uh…not as strong as he used to be, I mean, of course he's not, neither is my father…strong as he used to be, I mean, they're both getting older…I mean that your father is…I don't want to say crippled, because he's  _not_ …well, maybe he is. A little."

Gwaine had already suffered a multitude of emotions that day...terror, horror, embarrassment, hopelessness. He'd nearly been killed, he'd nearly seen his cousin get killed, he'd watch his other cousin break down in tears, and he'd been stared at Arthur in a far too calculating way ever since. But nothing was as bad as the guilt that came flooding into him, searing his stomach and bringing a bitter taste to his mouth. "What do you mean?"

"Um…" Clearly Aldwyn regretted saying anything. "Well, he…he can't walk without feeling some pain. Riding a horse any faster than a walk is almost impossible much of the time, and swordsmanship is rather beyond his abilities…he has good days and bad days…sometimes it's better or worse…not that he ever complains, but everyone knows…"

"It's because of what I did, isn't it?" 

"Gwaine…"

But he was already on his feet, dinner forgotten, wanting nothing else but to disappear into the woods again. Ignoring the calls of the knights, he made to hurry off into the cover of the trees.

He didn't get more than a few feet before Aldwyn grabbed his arm. Before he knew it, Gwaine was engaged in a violent tussling match with his cousin.

Deaf to the yells of alarm from all sides, Gwaine grappled wildly, trying to pin his cousin down. He realized that was no good...Aldwyn was taller and heavier...and settled with trying to land as many hard blows as possible. Aldwyn took a similar approach. Clawing at each other like wild animals and screaming curses all the while, they rolled over the leafy ground, neither managing to even come close to victory before they were roughly yanked apart.

"Let me go, Percival!" Gwaine yelled as Aldwyn shouted something similar at Arthur and Leon, who each had a hold of one of his arms. The damage had been done; Aldwyn's protests were muffled by the blood seeping from his nose, and Gwaine could feel the beginnings of what was sure to be a nasty black eye. Not to mention that the cut he'd received at the hand of a bandit earlier that day was bleeding again.  _Just wonderful._

Glaring at the men restraining him, Aldwyn managed to free one arm from Arthur and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Damn you, cousin!" he bellowed.

"No, damn  _you_!" Gwaine shouted. "You and your blasted brothers getting yourselves lost in Camelot when you had no business leaving Bernicia!"

" _No business leaving Bernicia_? The twins were taken by force and I came to rescue them! What's  _your_  excuse?"

_You know my excuses._ Gwaine suddenly felt very tired and stopped his token resistance against Percival. "I'm sorry," he said. As Percival released him and Aldwyn shook Leon off, Arthur stepped forward and said, "All right, what the hell is going on?"

By this point, the entire company had gathered around the scene of the fight with expressions of curiosity, confusion, and concern. Merlin was looking both Gwaine and Aldwyn up and down, apparently assessing their injuries. Cleva looked disgusted, Ryle, amused. Elwin was half-hiding behind Everard.  _Poor kid looks like he's been crying. Again._

Not wanted to answer anything, Gwaine tried evasion. "What do you mean, Arthur?" 

Arthur looked livid. "What I mean,  _Sir_  Gwaine," he ground out, "is what exactly is going on between you and Aldwyn?" His piercing blue eyes narrowed. "He called you his cousin, Gwaine…is that the truth?"

Gwaine's gaze flew back to Aldwyn. For a moment, they simply locked gazes, then Aldwyn gave a slight shrug as if to say,  _Well, what the hell?_

With a sigh, Gwaine turned back to Arthur. "Yes, Arthur, Aldwyn…and the twins…are my cousins."

Reactions varied from Leon's jaw dropping about a foot to Ryle bursting into cackling laughter and heading off into the woods yet again.  _Creep._

"And why exactly haven't you told us that yet?" Arthur demanded.

Gwaine couldn't meet anyone's gaze. "I had my reasons."

Before Arthur could attack that response, Aldwyn broke in. "What he means to say is... _we_  had our reasons." He sent a glare in his brothers' direction.

"He's right," Everard managed to say under the Pendragon's resulting scrutiny. "I talked to Gwaine about it even before we left Camelot, and we decided not to mention our familial relationship." Gwaine thanked all the gods for clever younger cousins. _And while Everard remains suave as ever, Elwin looks like he's about to either start crying or start laughing. I hope it's the later._

Gwaine could see a bit of humor in this situation. But it didn't look like Arthur did. 

* * *

_Bandits and fistfights and terribly timed revelations. This is one day I could do without._ Cleva wished that she could just slap some sense into the idiot men who were always blurting out the wrong things, or rather, the right things at the wrong times.

Gwaine waited until Arthur looked back at him before adding, "No, we're not telling you those reasons."

"Because it's none of your business," Aldwyn snapped as Arthur whipped around to confront him next.

"All you need to know is that our family isn't…well, it's complicated," Everard said. 

_"Complicated" as in absolutely insane, you mean._

"Barclayns," she muttered. Elwin heard her and let out a stifled snort.

Arthur launched into a rambling tirade about  _honor_ ,  _trust_ ,  _loyalty_  and whatnot with other knights were either supporting him or asking questions, while Merlin looked both Aldwyn and Gwaine over and tended to their injuries, ignoring the dispute entirely. 

And Cleva had had enough.

" _Would you all just shut it!_ " she bellowed. Once she had their attention, she lowered her voice. "What does it matter? So what if they're related and decided to keep it from you crowd from Camelot? If I hadn't known already, I daresay they wouldn't have told me, either. Now, evening is on us, and we are all tired, and I think we should all just get some sleep and then maybe, just maybe we'll all be in the frame of mind to discuss who's related to whom. Can we agree to that?" 

They did...except for Everard and Elwin, who started giggling nervously and continued to do so at intervals for hours.


	19. Chapter 18

Merlin felt that he did this too often. "What exactly are you playing at?" 

The air around the camp that morning was so thick with tension that Merlin could swear it was choking him. It seemed like everyone was either avoiding or snapping at everybody else...except Ryle, who just went about his packing with a sly grin on his face.

Gwaine yanked the girth strap on his horse's saddle with more force than was necessary, remaining silent in response to Merlin's question. Merlin found himself growing agitated. "Gwaine, you've been so hush-hush about your cousins so far, and now you're just blurting out everything at once…I mean, what's next? You tell Arthur that your uncle is the king of Bernicia?"

"Ha. No bloody way."

"Actually, why not?"

"Seriously? That would be  _almost_ , though not quite, as bad as going up to the Princess and telling him…" Gwaine paused, glanced around, and lowered his voice further, "…telling him that my mother's a sorceress." When Merlin raised his eyebrows, Gwaine sighed. "Merlin, mate, it's not…You already know how much my family dislikes Pendragons. And if Arthur gets wind of just how much…well, he's got his pride, you know. Can't imagine he'd take it well."

_Oh, for heaven's sake…_ "Gwaine…" Merlin began, but was interrupted by Aldwyn.

"Oi, cousin! The Pendragon wants to speak with you. He's over by the stream, looking all  _kingly_ and  _broody_ …" He trailed off muttering under his breath as he saddled his own mount.

_Like he's so much better._ Merlin caught Gwaine's apologetic glance as the knight moved away to speak with Arthur. Turning back to the prince next to him, Merlin said casually, "You know, you're going to have to look 'kingly and broody' someday. When you become a king yourself." He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it. 

Before he could feel too worried about the consequences, though, Aldwyn said dryly, "Trust me, if you met my father, you wouldn't say that all kings are constantly 'kingly and broody'. I have no intention of becoming anything less than what my father is."

When he didn't elaborate, Merlin ventured, "A good king?"

"Yes. A good and  _honest_  king. Without the broodiness."

Merlin didn't miss the slight grin on Aldwyn's face. "You're having me on, aren't you?"

"Maybe." Aldwyn shot a concerned look in the direction that Gwaine had gone; Merlin followed his gaze.

"He'll be fine," Merlin said. "Arthur's nothing if not fair."

"Hmm."

Merlin hesitated, then went ahead. "If you don't mind me prying…"

"That depends entirely on what you are prying about."

Merlin smiled and decided that Aldwyn wasn't really that bad at all. "Well, what I wanted to know is…Why, exactly, did you and Gwaine start beating each other up last night?"

"We were having a discussion and it got a little…tense. Trust me, it happened a lot when we were younger. Our logic then was 'when in doubt, start punching'."

That made Merlin laugh out loud. "You know, I don't think that's changed much for him."

Aldwyn let out a guffaw just as Everard and Elwin came up and demanded...in unison...to know what the joke was.

* * *

_For someone who wants to talk, Arthur's sure taking his time getting to it_. Gwaine sighed, leaned against a tree, and waited for the king of Camelot to finish pacing up and down the bank of the stream. A short distance away, he could hear the sounds of the camp being cleaned up. The horses were snorting and stamping, pots were clanging as Cleva loudly refused to let the twins help her pack them, and the knights were conversing in either loud squabbles or low mutters.  _It's probably all my fault, too, those squabbles._

Gwaine wasn't certain what Arthur was planning to ask him, but he could guess. And as he had told Merlin, he had absolutely no intention of telling Arthur about his royal blood. Telling Arthur that he was a noble would alone be awkward, since everyone in Camelot besides Merlin and Gaius believed him to have a commoner background. But the bit about being the nephew of a king...and the fact that said king's sons were also with the company...would be cataclysmic. There would probably be a lot of shouting.

_There probably will be anyway._ Unwilling to take the silence any longer, Gwaine pushed himself upright and asked, with affected laziness, "What's on your mind, Princess?"

Arthur stopped and spun to face him. "Did the twins truly know?"

_Okay, I did not expect that to be the lead question…But I can manage this._ "Did the twins truly know what?"

"Gwaine..."

"Alright, alright!" Gwaine held up his hands in surrender. "Yes, they did."

"All right, then; when is the last time you saw them or Aldwyn before the last few weeks?"

"Ten years ago, more or less."

"Ten years!" Arthur looked flabbergasted. "The twins would have been…"

"Rather young, yes. But they aren't stupid, and neither am I."

"Fine, then. Why the hell haven't you seen them for a decade?"

"None of your business."

Arthur had been speaking loudly, but now his voice went quiet as he stepped closer. "Gwaine, in the last couple months you've gone from somewhat irresponsible drunkard to completely irresponsible slacker to a nearly different person. So as  _your king_ , I demand that you explain exactly what is going on here."

Stupidly, Gwaine lost his temper, barely managing not to yell as he got right into Arthur's face. "You may be my king, Arthur, but that does not me you hold complete sway over me. I joined your knights as your friend…with my friends."  _Damn it, Gwaine, stop right there!_ But he didn't. "I have watched you become king of Camelot. I have followed you into battle and not regretted it. You are a noble man. You saved my life. But  _nothing_  gives you the right to order me to explain to you what has gone on between me and my  _family_. It's nothing you need concern yourself with, Arthur, and you might as well get used to that."

He stepped back, breathless. Arthur stared at him, blue eyes wide. "So...that is all you have to say?"

"Yes."

Arthur shook his head. "Well, then," he said brusquely, "we'd better be off. Best not to waste the daylight." He pushed past Gwaine, heading back towards the others, most of whom were probably watching them by this point.

Gwaine remained where he was for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control.  _A thousand curses on my big mouth._

Upon joining the others, he caught Cleva's gaze. She mouthed,  _Are you all right?_

He nodded, then said out loud, "Let me help you with that." Smiling a little, Cleva allowed him to take her laden pack and load it onto her horse.

_I'll ride with her today. We haven't had an actual conversation in a very long time._

* * *

_If you have something, you can lose it._

Which was why Ryle didn't mind being disliked by all and sundry. His view of other people in general had been soured many years ago, and it was easier to laugh at them than to curse them. It was easy to be callous, to find other people beneath him in order to distance himself from emotional attachment. For him, he world was something to be amused at, to be cruel toward. That was safe. That kept him invulnerable. It made people leave him alone. 

Yet there were times when he felt something, saw a situation or an action that brought up a memory of warmth, of family, of home. He forced these feelings and memories far back into himself whenever they surfaced. Still, those moment kept occurring across the years, no matter how many times he told himself that it was no use, he could never have those things again. No matter how often he told himself he didn't want them. 

He'd lost far too much. He would not… _could_ not let it happen ever again. But in those moments...

Over the last few years, he'd noticed a pattern. These moments of vulnerability happened most often in connection with a single person, a person who tended to hide her own vulnerabilities as he did. It annoyed him to no end. How could he  _possibly_  find himself constantly disarmed by the smile, the laugh, or the sheer sight of her? Why on earth couldn't he block her out like the rest?

He didn't know. All he knew was that, despite his constant attempts to feel indifferent, he cared. Which now led to worry. 

_Blasted emotions_.

It started around noon, when he dropped a ways behind the rest of the company to check for anything out of the ordinary. He saw nothing suspicious, so he urged his horse faster and soon caught up with the rest. He came close to Lady Cleva and Gwaine, who were riding next to each other and talking. At first, their words made him roll his eyes. They were chatting about their childhood together, about the things they had used to do, the people they had used to know. 

Then Gwaine fell silent and Cleva began to pester him, asking him if anything was wrong.

_Oh, for goodness' sakes, he had a fight with the Pendragon this morning. Of course something's wrong; he's two steps away from losing his knighthood._ Now, that was an interesting thought…'interesting' as in 'amusing'…

Gwaine mumbled something about his sister.

"I didn't quite catch that…What did you just say about Elen?"

Gwaine took his time answering. "I've been…sensing it for a while now…it's hard to explain, but…Cleva, I think something's very wrong with Elen. I think she's in terrible danger. I keep…I'm feeling her pain, somehow, but I don't know what to do…I have no idea even  _where_  she is…"

Moving out of earshot as Cleva attempted to comfort the rogue Barclayn, Ryle started worrying.  _It's nothing; Gwaine's just imagining it, probably…But why would he imagine something like that?_ Gwaine and Elen were twins, and they had magic in their blood…it wasn't inconceivable that they would have some kind of connection...

_And if it's real…if Elen Barclayn is really in trouble…_

_Damn_.


	20. Chapter 19

"Put it down!"

"No! Why should I?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake…"

"Because I said so!"

"He's got a point, actually…"

"Well, I won't!"

"Oh, wonderful…"

"Why are you being so impossible?"

"Because he wants to?"

"Because! I still think…"

"Really? I don't believe that you're thinking right now…"

" _Put it down_ , damn it!"

"Good grief…"

"No, I won't!"

" _Elwin!_ " Aldwyn and Everard yelled at the same time.

Merlin watched Elwin dart through the trees, running from his brothers. The travelers had stopped at a stream to water the horses, and Elwin had taken the opportunity to steal Aldwyn's crossbow; apparently this was something no one was allowed to do at any time. Elwin was in as much as a foul mood as anyone else at the moment, and had been pulling pranks every chance he got in an attempt to cheer himself up. 

Merlin accidentally bumped into Cleva as he moved to refill the water flasks in his hands. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Cleva said over the Elwin's shrieks as he was cornered by Aldwyn and Everard. "They are not particularly happy right now," she said with a jerk of the head in their direction.

"Well, no one else is either. Arthur's a hundred times worse when he's grumpy like he's been lately…" He trailed off as he filled the flasks.

Cleva followed him. "He reacts strongly when someone doesn't give him the whole truth, doesn't he?"

Merlin glanced around to make sure that Arthur wasn't within earshot. "Um…yeah, he does, but I guess he's earned the right to. I mean, first his father lied to him about his half-sister, then his sister lied to him about being an ally against Camelot with  _her_  half-sister, then his uncle lied to him about being allied with his half-sister  _after_  he found out that she wanted him dead…So you can't really blame him for being all that defensive."

"You're right; I can't. Honestly, though, is there anyone in his family who  _hasn't_ lied to him?"

Merlin considered that. "Well…I don't think his mother did. Not really." He recalled the spirit called up by Morgause and decided that it didn't count. "But she died when he was born."

Cleva grimaced. "I'd behave even more paranoid than Arthur if all that had happened to me."

"Trust me, his father was much,  _much_  worse."

"So we 'barbarians' in Bernicia heard."

Merlin snorted and watched Aldwyn and the twins return to the stream. Aldwyn had his crossbow back, but all three were coated in leaves and looked disgruntled. Fastening the lids of the water flasks, the warlock stood up and asked, "Cleva, where are you from? Originally, I mean. Gwaine mentioned that you weren't born in Bernicia…"

"Caerleon. My father was a knight who died in battle. The king took Mother's property away so we…What?"

Merlin was grinning. "Cleva, I think Gwaine stole your life story and told me it was his."

"He told you his father was a knight from Caerleon who…" Cleva couldn't complete her sentence due to her laughing. "Gwaine!" she eventually managed to shout. 

"What?" the knight called in response. 

"Caerleon?  _Seriously?_ "

The knights of Camelot, Arthur included, looked confused, but Everard let out a loud sigh. "Yes, Cleva, _seriously_ ; that's what he told Merlin."

Gwaine glared across the stream. "Merlin!"

Merlin put up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm sorry! I just asked her where she was from!"

"Gwaine!" Aldwyn shouted, catching on. 

Everard gave another exaggerated sigh. "Yes, it's disgraceful, isn't it?" 

"Everard!"

"He just said what Aldwyn was thinking! Right, Aldwyn?"

" _Elwin!_ "

"Now that you've all finished clearing up who's who, perhaps we can get moving again," Arthur said waspishly.

Cleva grinned at Merlin as they remounted their horses. As they began to cross the shallow stream, she leaned over and whispered, "Usually I don't find my…my past being mentioned lightly very funny. But…it's Gwaine, and it's such a bizarre situation, so…"

Merlin nodded. "And it's easier to smile that to frown, right?"

* * *

"Try anything with me Elwin and I'll dump you in the next pond we pass by." Gwaine said as the boy brought his mount up behind him.

"Wow, you sound just like Aldwyn does most of the time at home." 

Gwaine hid a smile. "Somehow I doubt it's ever stopped you before."

"Well…no. But usually Aldwyn is very stern about some things…like his precious target practice."

"Does his sternness on the training field have anything to do with you being an exceptional knife-thrower?" 

"When he's around, I suppose…" Elwin admitted. He added, "My regular instructor is a tyrant."

"Hey, you can't call anyone a tyrant unless you've met Uther Pendragon." 

"But he's dead! So I'll  _never_  meet him!"

"You see? So therefore you  _can't_  call anyone a tyrant, least of all your training instructor."

"That doesn't make any sense!" 

"And since when does everything  _you_  say make any sense? I distinctly remember some of the things you said when you were very young…"

"I was practically a baby! I didn't know any better!"

"And you do now?" Gwaine laughed out loud at the look on Elwin's face. "Relax, El, I'm just kidding."

Elwin cocked his head to one side and eyed Gwaine curiously. "You know…" He stopped.

"What?"

Elwin looked down at the leaf-strewn path beneath his horse's hooves, seemingly embarrassed. "You know how Aldwyn's not usually very temperamental, but he's not exactly the…uh, the playful type?"

_Well, he used to be pretty mischievous…Maybe he grew up._ Gwaine reflected on his conversations with his older cousin for a moment. _Okay, I'd say he certainly did._ "So?" 

"I always thought you'd be…exactly like him."

"Thought?"

"I don't...I didn't remember you at all. Everard did, a little, and Aldwyn talked about you enough so that I could pretend like I remembered you, but…I don't think I ever really did. I just remembered what I'd been told about you. Like the piggyback rides. Everard and Aldwyn have described memories so often that it's almost like they're mine, but not quite. It just…I don't know why, but it makes me feel guilty."

"It's okay. I don't remember much from when I was that age, either. And besides, " he added, "has it ever occurred to you that some of those memories  _are_  actually yours?"

Elwin looked thoughtful, but didn't respond.

Feeling an urge to change the subject, Gwaine asked, "I was wondering if you could tell me something?"

"What?"

He smiled at the trepidation in the boy's voice. "Is Great-Aunt Gytha still telling stories?"

Elwin's expression brightened. "Oh, yes, she is! She spends most of her days telling stories to whoever will listen. Which is a lot of people. She knows so many old tales…"

"I remember going to her chambers with Aldwyn, Elen, and Haralda. We'd sit and listen to her tell stories for hours. Sometimes we'd demand that she tell our favorite tales over and over again. It didn't matter how many times we'd heard them before."

"I know! Me and Everard used to go and listen to her also…we still do, even though we don't have as much time as we used to…Which is your favorite story of hers?"

Gwaine took a moment to recall its name. " _The Vanishing Cliffs_." 

"The one about the fishermen chasing the cliffs while trying to get back to shore? And the kelpies?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Why?"

"Probably because it never ceased to scare the hell out of me. Every single time."

Elwin giggled. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he said, "It does that to me too."

"But it's not your favorite, is it?"

"No. I like the one about the hawks and the goblins better, Elwin said, referring to a rather humorous old story of a battle between northern moor hawks and southern goblins.

"Let me guess; you're on the side of the goblins." 

"Oh, but of course!" Elwin said grandly. "Mischief always!"

They got more than a few stares from the rest of the company as they both burst out laughing. 

* * *

Cleva was feeling overall relief at the fact that they hadn't gotten terribly lost on the way back to Bernicia. If only the trip  _from_ Bernicia had been so smooth in regards to navigation. But this time, everybody was even more grumpy, and there were more of them. She was tired of it.  _But how do you tell a group of…let's see…eight men to snap out of it? It's hard enough getting them to shut up! And I'm not even counting the twins…_

Still, Cleva could find things to enjoy about the remainder of the journey. The weather was lovely. The landscape was gorgeous. She'd always loved being outdoors, though the endless riding could get tiresome after a while. At least she was used to it.

What she was not used to was the palpable tension that hung about the company on this particular beautiful morning. She toyed with the idea of bursting into song in order to break the near-silence. Her voice wasn't terrible.  _Mediocre, that's the word. Might_   _lessen the stress a bit, least ways._

She didn't get a chance to try.

As they rode through a narrow gully, the surrounding woods seemed to explode with men in mismatching armor, all swinging maces, battle-axes, or swords. There were a lot of them…and even in Cleva's inexperienced eyes, it was _too many_. 

Arthur and Aldwyn seemed to come to a similar conclusion. " _Scatter!_ " the southern king and northern prince shouted together. 

Cleva pulled her horse's head around and galloped back the way she had come, hearing the first sounds of metal crashing onto metal behind her. Another skirmish had erupted. 

_Something tells me that this one won't turn out as well._


	21. Chapter 20

Even when planned, battles and skirmishes consisted mostly of chaotic improvisation. And traps could be foiled. Sometimes.

Gwaine glimpsed Cleva and the twins spurring their horses back in the direction that they had come from and escaped the worst of the combat. Beyond that, he no time to think about anyone's safety but his own. Unable to ride out of the gully himself, he tried to stay on his horse for as long as possible. But in the chaos, it was only a matter of time before he was thrown off. He managed to land more or less on his feet, sword out and ready. Instincts took over as he fought, trying to work his way back to the others through the endless stream of adversaries. Driven against a pile of boulders, he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers as his injured arm gave out.

_What a way to die._

One of the thugs seized his sword arm and tore his weapon from his grasp. A blow to his shoulder brought him to his knees. They pinned him down to tie his hands, and he twisted wildly to free himself. Seeing a chance, he sunk his teeth into the arm of the man nearest. For that, he received a blow to the skull that made his head spin. Taking advantage of his pain, his captors blindfolded him. 

Eyes now useless, Gwaine realized with a sinking feeling that the sounds of battle had all but died. 

_Captured, not dead. Everyone else is, too, or they're all dead._

He was gagged before he got the chance to call out for the others.

_Damn._

A few minutes later, with stinking thugs pressing in on all sides, he felt an unusual burst of relief at the sound of Arthur Pendragon's, muffled voice.

_Well, that's me and the Princess accounted for…I just hope everyone else is alive…and far away from here…_

But judging by what he could hear, he and Arthur were not the only prisoners.

Their captors spoke little and forced the prisoners to walk, stumbling and tripping with every step, for what Gwaine judged to be around three miles, more or less. The sounds of footsteps were punctuated by commands to either "shut up" or "get moving" or curses. 

_Just wonderful._ These couldn't possibly be ordinary bandits. Those killed and pillaged without discrimination, but these men… _Slave traders, maybe?_ Gwaine didn't like that idea any better.

What seemed like hours later, they were brought to halt. After a muffled conversation between the ruffians, they started moving again, only now the prisoners were forced up and through what were clearly stone staircases and halls. Gwaine could hear everyone's footsteps echoing down passageways.

_So now we're in a large stone building, most likely a castle. The question is, whose castle? And where the hell is it? We're nearly out of Rheged, maybe Gododdin…_ Gwaine was unprepared when he was pushed forward onto a stone floor and had his blindfold yanked off along with his gag. Blinking to adjust to the sudden increase of light, he looked around to figure out who was still with him.

Directly to his right knelt Arthur, with Aldwyn beyond that. Turning his head, Gwaine found that Elyan to his left, with Merlin and Leon on their knees next to him. Elyan looked half-conscious and Leon appeared to be having trouble breathing; the others seemed more or less normal.  _So Cleva, Percival, and the twins got away. And Ryle has some magic, so of course he did, too. As for us..._

They were in a large, dilapidated throne room of sorts. The stone around the arched windows on the left wall and at the other end of the room was crumbling and the floor was missing multiple paving stones. At least two dozen armed men gathered on all sides, and sitting on a makeshift throne in front of the prisoners was a hulking figure dressed in stained, tangled furs. He leered, showing off his yellowed teeth from behind a huge grey beard that was more knotted than his garments. A huge battleaxe rested against the side of his throne. "Well, well, what have we here?" 

_His voice is just as unpleasant as the rest of him._

The man's next words were directed at his soldiers. "How many got away?"

One of his thugs responded promptly. "We saw one woman, two men, and a pair of boys fleeing, m'lord Haig."

_Ah, so he's a rogue warlord of sorts. Dangerous, has plenty of resources by the looks of it, and is most likely somewhat insane. Could this situation get much worse?_

"Lord Haig" made a displeased face and climbed down from his throne to pace, continuing to scrutinize his prisoners. His caught something and he came to a stop in front of Gwaine. "Well, well," he growled.

Gwaine recoiled from Haig's foul breath as the man hooked his fingers on the chain Gwaine wore about his neck. He took a few moments to examine the pendant, disregarding the ring. "Well, if it isn't…This is far better than those little boys, my friends!...let me see…Aldwyn Barclayn, am I correct?"

It hit Gwaine like a crashing wyvern.  _He's after the princes for some reason...he must have had the twins kidnapped, now he thinks that I'm my cousin…because of the bloody pendant…_ Then Gwaine realized what he had to do. "That's about right," he replied, summoning whatever dignity he had left.

"Cousin, no!" shouted Aldwyn.

"Shut up, Gwaine!" Gwaine snapped back at him.

Haig looked from one to the other, thoughtfully.

"What the hell is going on?" Arthur demanded.

Haig turned to him. "Who are you, precisely?" 

_Thank God we hid all the things we had that bore the Camelot crest before we entered Rheged._ What had been merely a precaution in order to avoid any political awkwardness had probably saved them from an even worse situation. It was bad enough that Haig knew that he had members of one royal house in his grasp, let alone two.

Fortunately, Aldwyn answered before Arthur or another one of the knights could say something stupidly honorable or honorably stupid. "They're nobody of consequence. The question is, what exactly do you want with us in the first place?"

Haig bared his teeth. "I want a lot of things, my friends, but first of all, I want to have you meet another guest of mine. Of course, I believe that you've  _met_  her before…" He made a gesture towards a couple guards, who left through the main door. Haig turned back to the prisoners.

"I hired some slave traders to capture those children. I knew that someone would be after them…and what better way to lure even more Barclayns out of Bernicia? If I know one thing about your family, it is that you are loyal to a fault…A few of my men were waiting in Cornwall to retrieve the boys, and bring them back to me. Either way, I would have at least those two in my grasp, and perhaps those who had come after to try and find them. Imagine my displeasure when I lost contact with the men I hired…I suppose they are dead? No matter, enough of my plan has worked."

"What is it you want?" Gwaine said.

Haig laughed harshly. "Isn't it obvious? I want revenge…for wrongs the Barclayns have wrought. But I'm getting ahead of myself…about my other guest. I was pleased to find her, I admit…and even more pleased when I realized who she was. But unfortunately, she didn't give us any information worth having…luckily my spies are vigilant and your company rather negligent."

Gwaine felt as if he'd been clouted in the stomach. For he knew exactly who Haig's "guest" was.

_No._

The door behind them opened. The two guards returned dragging somebody. They walked around the prisoners and deposited their burden in front of them.

Elen.

_What the hell did they do to my sister?_

* * *

Merlin felt nothing but horror at the sight of his former adversary, and not because they had once fought.

The young woman was a pitiful sight. She was filthy, her entire body caked in dirt and blood. Her clothes were crusted to her and from what Merlin could see of her back, it was a solid mass of welts underneath the remaining strips of her tunic. Her wrists were bloodied, and her golden hair hung in limp, ragged strands. But the worst part was her face. It was mostly undamaged, save for being dirty like the rest of her, but it was bizarrely blank. Her brown eyes were dull, lifeless.

Merlin tore his eyes away from her and chanced a look at Gwaine. The dark-haired knight's face was white, his jaw clenched. His eyes blazed.

"What did you do to her?" That was Aldwyn, apparently feeling the need to enunciate what everyone else was thinking.

Looking at Arthur, Merlin could see that the king was horrified, but uncomprehending.  _He doesn't know who she is…_

Haig seemed gleeful. "Sometimes torture breaks people and they confess. Other times…they just break. And though she hasn't given us any useful information, I will admit that we've had quite a lot of…fun with her, so to speak. Haven't we, men?"

Several soldiers guffawed. Merlin felt like throwing up as he realized what they were talking about. _Those beasts..._

"Elen," Gwaine said. " _Elen,_ " he repeated after a moment, more loudly. She showed no response.

Haig was pacing again. "I have no idea who most of you are," he growled, "But I do know that two of you are lying to me."

Merlin watched as the warlord halted and glared down at Gwaine and Aldwyn in turn. "You think that you are very clever, don't you? Trying to confuse me as to which cousin is which? I've never met either of you. But I do happen to know...it slipped my mind briefly...that Aldwyn Barclayn has grey eyes. I did ask one of my sources for a physical description."

"Shit," Aldwyn said.

Merlin had to agree with that.

 


	22. Chapter 21

"You have a couple bruised ribs, nothing more serious," Merlin told Leon. 

The blond knight winced. "Thank you, Merlin."

"I wish I could do more, but under the present circumstances…" Turning to peer into the next cell, Merlin called, "Elyan? Are you still feeling dizzy?"

"Only a bit." Elyan replied from the cramped cell he was sharing with Arthur.

"What exactly did they hit you with?" Leon asked. "I didn't see much blood, but you acted like you were half-asleep for ages."

"I think it was a tree branch. A really heavy one," Elyan said.

Next to him, Arthur stared at the ceiling, seemingly preoccupied. Merlin sighed and took a seat on the stone floor.  _At least we're not tied up._ Haig's men had thrown them into the cells at least an hour previously, while Haig had kept Gwaine and Aldwyn in the throne room with him.

_And Elen was in there too._ Merlin could only imagine what Gwaine was going through right now, having to see his sister like that.  _He was right when he said that something was wrong, that something had happened to her._ And now Haig was going to…what?  _Torture them, kill them? And what about us?_

The silence between the men in the cells stretched out, and Merlin found his mind going back to the battle.

Everything had fallen apart so fast. He'd stayed close to Arthur, which had resulted in both of them being captured. If he'd been alone, he could've gotten away. But in front of his king…there just hadn't been that option. Once they subdued him and Arthur, it was over. Merlin had seen Leon get kicked by his own horse and tackled by enemies shortly before Elyan was walloped over the head.  _At least Cleva and the twins and Percival escaped…and that fellow Ryle…I hope they regroup and go for help…if there's time for that, which might not be the case…_

His thoughts were interrupted when Arthur blurted out, "What the hell is a Barclayn?"

Merlin exchanged a glance with Leon, and Elyan said, "It sounded like a family name, Sire."

Arthur let out an exasperated noise. "I  _noticed_  that, Elyan. I just want to know which family it is and why I've never heard of it." 

"Well, they must be a Bernician noble family of sorts, and it fits in with the way that they behave," Leon pointed out. "Or, at least, the way the twins and Aldwyn behave, I can't say the same for Gwaine. After all, we never guessed…"

"That he was a noble," Elyan finished. "But if Aldwyn and the twins are nobles, then Gwaine must be too since he's their cousin. And you saw what he did; he tried to pass as Aldwyn."

"And failed rather spectacularly," Arthur said. "But which noble family are they? As I mentioned before I've never even  _heard_  of the Barclayns. And what on earth does this Haig want with them? He said revenge...revenge for what?"

For a fraction of an instant, Merlin debated simply blurting out what he did know. But he disregarded the idea almost instantly.  _It's not my secret to tell._

* * *

One of the first things Gwaine had noticed about Haig was that he was surprisingly…"well spoken" for a rogue. The way he used his words was refined compared to most warlords Gwaine had encountered.

He and Aldwyn didn't have to wait long before finding out why. Shortly after sending their friends from Camelot out of the room...presumably to the dungeons...Haig settled himself on his throne with a flagon of wine and began to talk directly to the two young men, ignoring the crumpled form of Elen at his feet. "Many, many years ago, far more than I care to recall, I was poised to become a knight of the Kingdom of Bernicia. My father was a trusted member of the court, close advisor to King Dalbert, and my mother a most prestigious lady."

_So he's actually a noble. But…good lord, King Dalbert?_ Gwaine summoned up some very vague memories of his deceased grandfather, who had died over twenty years previously.  _Exactly how long has Haig been out for revenge?_

"My parents had always been rather disappointed that I was an only child, but pleased that I would become a strong knight and perhaps one day a court advisor like my father."

"Let me guess. It didn't work out properly," Aldwyn sneered.

_Well, he beat me to that one,_ Gwaine thought.

Haig snorted and took a swig of wine. "Not exactly. I did become a knight. But my mother ruined our family's good name shortly before that happened."

"Did she sleep with the wrong person?" Gwaine suggested, earning himself an eye roll from Aldwyn.

"No, as a matter of fact, she did not. She tried to kill the king." After a brief moment of silence, Haig continued, "She was caught, and executed. Further investigation reassured the king that my father and I had nothing to do with it. But our honor was sullied. My father eventually had to leave his position in the court. And when I became a knight, I was always considered an outsider because of my mother's betrayal."

_It sounds to me like he blames his mother for all that. So why does he hate the Barclayns so much?_

"Finally, after years of loyal service, I earned the trust of my fellow knights and even the trust of the young Prince Harlan."

"My father never made any mention of you," Aldwyn said when Haig paused again.

"Unsurprising, given your family's boundless pride. A couple years after my father's death, I saved your father's life in battle. He thanked me and offered me a reward in return. There was only one thing I desired, one thing I treasured above all the rest."

"And that was….?" Gwaine inquired.

"The lovely Princess Gerarda. I asked for her hand in marriage."

Aldwyn started laughing. "So, you want revenge on the entire Barclayn clan because my father told you that you couldn't marry his sister? That's absurd!"

Haig threw aside his wine flagon and stood, his expression darkening. "He did not refuse out of political reasons; King Dalbert had yet to betroth her to Axton of Strathclyde. He refused out of pride, out of the belief that a mere noble of Bernicia was not a fit match for his sister!"

Gwaine thought about his Aunt Gerarda.  _Well…he's not. That's obvious. I'm not even being prideful here._

Haig began to pace. "Not did he only refuse my request, but he told his father. And his sister. And the entire court, so that I could be humiliated before the kingdom! Because I was not good enough for a Barclayn!"

He stopped in his tracks to deliver a sharp kick to Elen's ribs. She let out a soft moan and weakly flinched away.

Had Gwaine been unbound and free of guards Haig would have been dead in a second. As it was he could only scream out a barrage of swear words, to which Haig responded with a laugh before kicking Elen again. "I chose to leave Bernicia, and I have planned my revenge ever since. I care not for Gerarda any longer…she has grown old, and besides, what is love? A fleeting fancy. But dishonor…the sting of dishonor never fades. You, your lying cousin, and your precious sister can wait a little longer for death. I intend to enjoy your deaths as much as possible. Have no doubt that I will make sure that your family finds out about it and that they will get what remains of your mangled bodies. And while I'm at it, I'll have my men look around for the twins. Why not? Perhaps we'll be lucky enough to find at least one of them."

This time it was Aldwyn's turn to curse Haig and all of his ancestors.

* * *

Arthur, Merlin, Leon, and Elyan had been sitting in silence for a while when five guards arrived, two each for Aldwyn and Gwaine and another with Elen slung over his shoulder. They shoved Aldwyn into one of the cells across the cramped passageway from the knights of Camelot and pushed Gwaine into another. The last guard threw Elen in after him.

As the guards stalked off to join a few others at the end of the passageway, Merlin stood up and crossed to the door of his cell. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Aldwyn muttered something unrepeatable and dragged his hand through his tangled hair. Gwaine paid even less attention to Merlin, instead focusing on his sister.

"Elen," he whispered as he pulled her head onto his lap, gently pushing her hair out of her face.

From what Merlin could see, the young woman was near unconscious.  _How long has she been like that?_ "Gwaine?" he ventured after a moment

If he hadn't been in cramped quarters, Merlin probably would've retreated from the look Gwaine turned on him now. He'd never seen the knight's expression filled with that much cold fury. "I'm going to kill him," he growled. "And then I'm following him to hell and killing him again."

_At least he's not talking about me._ "How bad are her injuries?"  _As much as I support his desire for revenge, now is really not the time…_

Gwaine seemed to calm down and took a few moments to examine Elen's inert body. "She's been tortured, obviously…many of these wounds are infected…"

"Why the hell didn't she use magic to free herself?" demanded Aldwyn.

The exclamations from Arthur and his knights were drowned out my Gwaine's furious response. "Take a look at her wrists, Aldwyn. They aren't just raw, they're _burnt_. That filthy bastard used magic-suppressing shackles on her."

"Well, how exactly did he get hold of her in the first place?"

"How the hell should I know? I only…"

"All right, before this discussion goes any further, I want to know exactly who that woman is!" Arthur said in his best "I'm the king" voice. 

_Oh, just brilliant, Arthur. Now Gwaine looks like he wants to kill you, too._

"This woman, Arthur," Gwaine snarled, "is my _sister_. And if you refer to her in that tone of voice again, I swear that I'll make you regret it."

"Your…" Arthur halted, clearly at loss for words.

It was Leon who broke the silence. "Your sister is a…a sorceress?"

Gwaine laughed, and Merlin winced. It was that bitter laugh that he'd only heard from his friend a couple times. "Yes, she is. Does that bother you,  _Sir_  Leon? My mother is a sorceress too, a healer. Like her parents before her. Unfortunately," His gaze flew back to Arthur, "her younger siblings never got the chance to learn to control their gifts because Uther Pendragon decided to drown all three of them."

"Gwaine…" But Merlin knew, deep down, that no words of his would change what was happening. All of the anger Gwaine had held against the Pendragons, all of the fury he'd tried to control, was breaking loose.

And Merlin knew, in that instant between his weak attempt at pacifying his friend and Arthur's next words, that Gwaine was never going back to Camelot.

* * *

Ryle hadn't fled the battle, not entirely.

He'd galloped his horse away, making sure that his would-be opponents saw him, before urging his mount into some bushes and turning them both into a rock. Well, it was an _illusion_ of a rock, and was a pain to keep in place even for the few necessary minutes. But it did work. The rogues scattered and disappeared, and Ryle was left liberated to flee or do as much sneaking as he chose.

He chose the latter. He'd followed his former pursuers, discovered and assessed their stronghold, and eavesdropped for a while. What he'd found out made him so angry that he could barely see straight.

Ryle had magic, but he was no fool. He knew that it would be too difficult to attack on his own or even sneak in without backup. Cleva, the teenage twins, and Sir Percival were not the help he was thinking of, even if he could find them.

He'd traveled this way before. He knew where he was. And he knew where he was headed now, with his horse at full gallop.

_Hayden's wyverns had better be good for something._


	23. Chapter 22

"My father killed your mother's siblings?" Arthur sounded, regrettably, rather idiotic as he said this. 

Gwaine snorted. "No, he just gave the order. Naturally, he never did like getting his pretty hands soiled, now did he?"

"How dare you…" Arthur began, but Gwaine cut him off.

"How dare I insult your father? Oh, come on, Princess, don't you want to insult mine, too? For marrying a sorceress? How could he be so  _stupid_!" Gwaine was laughing again. "I don't have magic myself, if that's what you're  _really_ worried about. If I did, I probably would've killed Uther when I had the chance. Yeah, I meant that,  _Pendragon_." He whispered the last word, presumably so that the guards didn't hear. His tone remained vicious. 

Arthur stood up and moved to the front of his cell, keeping his voice low yet infuriated, "If you hated my father so much, why did you become one of my knights?"

"The key word in that question is 'my'. Or 'your', depending on your point of view." Easing his sister's head off his lap, Gwaine also stood and stepped forward so he could glare through the bars at Arthur. "I became one of  _your_  knights partly because I had nothing better to do with myself, but also because I believed…I  _hoped_  that you were different. That you weren't entirely your father's son."

"And now you think…what? That I am my father's son? I loved and respected my father, but I do not adhere to all his doctrines. You know that! I do my best to be a just and honorable king!"

Gwaine shook his head. "Oh, Arthur, here we go again." Venom seemed to drip from his every word. "Just and  _honorable_. You Pendragon's and your 'honor'. Now, what the hell _is_ your version of honor? The right to wear a bright cloak and swear to defend your homeland at all costs, even when it's wrong? The right to claim revenge for being  _dis_ honored? Let me tell you something, Arthur…upstairs, in that throne room, is someone who has taken honor a few steps to far, just like you've come so close to doing so many times…and just like your father did for the entirety of his reign. Honor…I see nothing honorable about killing children, do you? Or unarmed prisoners…we were all a witness to that, Arthur, if you recall…I see no honor in hunting people for something they cannot change. Because magic is  _not a choice_ , Arthur. I learned that very early. Perhaps if you and your father had gotten that through your thick skulls a little earlier,  _your_  sister wouldn't be trying to kill you all the time."

"Magic…" Arthur gathered himself and launched his own attack. "Magic killed my parents! Magic has tried to destroy Camelot a thousand times over! Magic is evil! It corrupts and devastates…I'm not saying your family is evil, Gwaine, but magic…"

"Spare me the lecture, Pendragon!"

"Spare us all," Aldwyn said, but Gwaine wasn't done. 

" _Magic_  has not tried to destroy Camelot, those who  _use_  magic for evil have! Can't you see the difference, Arthur? Or are you really too much like your father? God knows I've tried to defend you, saying that isn't true. But maybe I was mistaken."

"Too much like  _my_  father? I'd like to know exactly how much you're like  _your_  father, Gwaine! And, for that matter, who the hell _are_ you? We find two Bernician boys in the woods, captured by slave traders, then we rescue them, then it turns out they're the cousins of one of my knights, then we end up captured by some insane warlord…what is his problem with you…you  _Barclayns_? He said he wants revenge…for  _what_?"

Gwaine completely ignored the latter half of what Arthur had said. " _My_  father, Arthur? I don't know exactly how similar I am to my father, but I like to think that he is a man of true honor. Not that we Bernicians particularly enjoy using the word all that often."

_If it weren't for the bars on these cells, I have a feeling that somebody would have a very black eye right about now. And a few broken ribs._ Merlin groaned inwardly.  _This is not going well at all…_

It was Elyan who spoke next, clearly wanting to diffuse the situation somewhat. "Well," he said as he scrambled to his feet to stand beside Arthur, "I suppose we'll have to see that out for ourselves when we reach Bernicia. I think getting out of  _here_  is first priority, though."

"It is," Aldwyn spoke before Arthur and Gwaine could start arguing again. "We do need to get out of here. But you lot," he gestured with his head at the men from Camelot, "you are not entering Bernicia. None of you."

"And why ever not?" Leon said, offended. 

"Because I said so," Aldwyn stood up, appearing much taller than normal in the shadowy dungeon. "And for your information, Pendragon, the Barclayn family is the ruling family of Bernicia. And as Crown Prince, I am telling you that you are not to enter my father's kingdom."

Dead silence followed this. Merlin resisted the urge to drop his head into his hands.

Elyan's voice broke the stillness. "Gwaine…is he telling the truth?"

"Yes." Gwaine sat down again, pulling his sister close to him. "He's royalty, I'm royalty, the twins are royalty. And yes, he'll kill you if you try to cross the border into Bernicia without his go-ahead. Barclayns respond badly to provocation."

"So we've noticed." Leon said.

The silence got even more strained over the next few moments.

Merlin was the first to crack.  _Oh, no, Merlin, don't you dare start laughing…_ A completely useless order; he started giggling a few seconds later. Well, it was either laugh or kill someone, and given the circumstances, the former was preferable.

Unsurprisingly, Gwaine started laughing next. Then Aldwyn, then Elyan. Even Leon let out a bemused chuckle, shaking his head. Arthur held out the longest, then broke down as well.

_Maybe it's finally happened. We're all going insane._

* * *

The laughter startled the guards at the end of the passage; they turned and gave the prisoners such bewildered looks that it was genuinely funny, which of course kept the captives laughing even longer. When the noise died away into harsh quiet, Arthur was first to speak. "You're banished from Camelot, Sir…no, wait, what  _am_  I supposed to call you, Gwaine?"

"Well, 'Lord Gwaine' would do just fine." Gwaine stifled a snort.  _Been a long time since I've heard those two words strung together…_

"Whatever. You're banished." Arthur sat down with a grunt.

"That's just fine by me, since I have finally given in and decided to hate you."

"I always knew you were hiding something behind that drunken grin."

"Oh, dear God, Gwaine, you passed as a drunkard?" Aldwyn slumped down on the stone floor. "This whole business is going to be just wonderful to explain to Father. Which is why you're the one who will be doing the storytelling."

"Hey, I  _was_  a drunkard, and a very good one at that! And  _I'm_  not telling Uncle Harlan that I became a knight of Camelot. He'll eat me alive!"

"Good, just so long as it's not me."

"Yeah, but you're his heir, aren't you?" Elyan said, though Gwaine thought he spotted the dark-skinned knight grinning.

"I am, but he's got four other children, remember."

Arthur said, "All right, everyone, let's stop discussing succession and think of a way to get out of here so you can discuss it further if you so choose."

"Sounds fine by me." Aldwyn responded.

Merlin let out another amused chuckle, earning a "Shut up, Merlin!" from Arthur. With that, the prisoners lapsed into silence only broken by the muffled sounds of voices and weapons clanking at the end of the passageway.

Gwaine found it hard to think of an escape plan as his thoughts kept becoming occupied with the limp figure in his arms. She was so pale and weak, and seeing her injuries...He almost felt every whiplash and bruise on his own skin.

He'd never seen his sister this helpless. More often than not he'd been the one in that position and his sister had been his rescuer, likethe time he'd broken his arm racing through the apple trees. But now…now he was the strong one. He just wasn't used to it. While roaming around the countryside, he'd run more often than fought. In Camelot, he'd always been with the others, with his friends.

Then it hit him.  _You're banished from Camelot. You're no longer a knight._

Funnily enough, he'd more or less already made up his mind to leave the knights and go home. It had been occurring to him slowly yet steadily as of late. He had to go home. He'd expected to feel loss at leaving the knighthood, at leaving his life in Camelot. But right now, he didn't feel that at all. He felt…liberated.

_At least it's all in the open, now. Well, almost all of it. Enough, least-ways._ Of course, now there was the question of "Is this going to cause a war or not?". _Unlikely_. Arthur didn't seem to want to come to Bernicia and Aldwyn certainly had no strategic interest in Camelot, and besides Harlan wouldn't sanction war without a bloody good reason. Or, at least, Gwaine didn't think he would… _Father would tell him not to make it a bigger issue._

That made Gwaine feel better and worse at the same time.  _Father's still alive. If…when we get out of here, I'm going to see him again._ But, according to Aldwyn, he wasn't the strong warrior Gwaine had known.

_That's my fault. I'm going to have to say sorry. For what I did then, and now…what happened to Elen…I should've gone with her…_ Then maybe she wouldn't be unconscious on his lap right now. Maybe she wouldn't be dying.  _She can't die. I won't let her._

Which brought up another pressing question.  _If we do escape, if we have to fight our way out of here, how do I protect Elen?_ He couldn't assume that Arthur or Elyan or Leon would. Merlin, maybe, but under pressure the manservant would probably pick his master. Gwaine wouldn't blame him in the slightest for that.  _Aldwyn will have my back. But there's only so much one man can do…_

Perhaps, if they were very, very lucky, someone would rescue them.  _Hopefully before Haig decides exactly how he wants to kill us all._

Gwaine's thoughts continued to spin around and around long after the thin streams of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the dungeon walls faded into darkness.

* * *

It was getting late, and Hayden was checking his wyverns over before going to bed.

_Old Sapphire and Ruby are in the shed…Obsidian and Citrine are in their enclosure together…unusually affectionate with each other, those two, even for mates…Ah, there's Obsidian's little brother Diamond in the corner…Emerald's a little apart, as usual…then Amethyst and Peridot are tangled up together…where's Topaz? Ah-ha, there he is, on the other side of his mother…_

Routine over, Hayden stifled a yawn as he turned towards his cottage. It was more like three cottages built together on a small rise so that it resembled an anthill.  _My grandfather had no aesthetic taste, apparently…_ Hayden chuckled over that, not for the first time.

A loud snort from behind him startled him. He spun around; he'd recognized Obsidian's particular vocal tone, and he trusted Obsidian's senses. Sure enough, he began to hear hoof beats seconds later, approaching fast. When he could make out the shadowy figure approaching in the twilight, he backed up against the wyvern pen and called, "Who's there?" Silently, he added,  _A couple whistles and my wyverns will tear you to pieces._

" _Hayden!_ " the figure shouted as his horse thundered to a to a stop a few feet away.

Hayden relaxed immediately. "Ryle! What are you doing here?"

His distant relative swung off his horse and stumbled towards him. "I need your help."

"Why? Are you injured?"  The older man didn't  _look_  injured, but he did appear exhausted.

"No, no, I'm fine…" Ryle dragged his hand through his hair. "There was a skirmish…Some warlord named Haig has Elen Barclayn…and Prince Aldwyn  _and_ Gwaine…yes, Prince Goddard's son Gwaine… _and_  Arthur Pendragon…it's a long story…I think the twins got away with Cleva, but I'm not sure…they'll be killed, the lot of them if we don't rescue them, it's too far to the city so I thought of you…"

Ryle ran out of breath there and stopped, gasping. It was just as well as it took Hayden a minute to work past "Arthur Pendragon". "Wait, so this 'Haig' has captured three Barclayns plus a Pendragon…How did did  _that_ happen?"

"As I said, it's a long story. I'll explain on the way…You've taken your wyverns hunting. Can they attack people?"

"They'll attack anything tell them to," Hayden replied. "But…Gwaine Barclayn? So you did see him further south?"

"Oh, for God's sakes, there's no  _time_!" Ryle yelled. "They'll kill her…I mean, them…" He trailed off, spluttering.

Hayden stared at the uncharacteristically anxious man before him and understood. "We'll rescue them," he said. "The wyverns are resting, but I can get them up easily enough. Your mount looks spent...we can borrow some horses in the village down the valley…they know me, they'll be glad to help." He stopped, distracted by the Emerald's hot breath as the wyvern approached and breathed over the fence onto his neck.

Ryle eyed the beast warily. "Can you really get them up and ready to fight?"

"They're wyverns, Ryle, not soldiers. But yes, they can fight. As for getting them to wake up…raw fish does wonders."

* * *

Lady Ela didn't often stay up late reading, but she'd found a fascinating tome on rare medicinal herbs and the time slipped by her. She didn't even recognize how late it had become until she heard her husband cry out.

Dropping her book and racing to the bedchamber, she found Goddard sitting up in bed, hair and nightshirt alike drenched in sweat. "Pain or nightmares?" she asked as their eyes met. Physical pain was easy for her to deal with; she was a healer, after all. Nightmares…not always.

"A little of both." Goddard sighed and flopped back on the pillows. "Nothing I can't handle, my love."

With a nod, Ela began to get ready for bed. She was still concerned, but no more than usual until Goddard said, "Ela, remember when I used to joke about your 'mother's intuition'?"

That made her smile a bit, though she wondered where he was going with this line of inquiry. "It annoyed me to no end, as I recall. Especially since I was usually right."

"I can't deny that. What is it telling you now?"

Ela stopped in the middle of combing her long hair and turned to stare at her husband. _He's not joking_. So she complied and searched her instincts. Her stomach clenched a little as she admitted, "I'm worried for them. I feel as if they're in danger. But…I can't tell...it could just be that they're far away. Separation causes worry." She finished brushing her hair and got into bed.

As her husband wrapped his arms around her and she nestled into him, she murmured, "Goddard?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I want them back. Both of them. I want them both with me. Elen is always running off these days, and Gwaine…" She stopped there. It hurt. Badly.  _Ten years and it hasn't changed._

Goddard's arms tightened around her. "I miss him too, love," he whispered into her hair. "I miss him too."


	24. Chapter 23

"Gwaine, are you awake?"

"Yeah." Gwaine shifted on the stone floor, readjusting his sister's weight in his lap. He didn't feel tired at all. "Why?"

"Is everyone else asleep?"

"How would I know that? It's pitch black in here."

"Fine." Pause. "Gwaine?"

"Yes, Aldwyn?" 

"Did you mean what you said to Arthur?"

"Which bit?"

"Well…all of it, I suppose."

Gwaine hesitated.  _I'm such a hypocrite._ Only a few days ago, it seemed, he'd been defending Arthur Pendragon with conviction.  _Nothing like his father…doesn't pursue those with magic…_ But were those lies, in reality? Had Gwaine himself been blinded by his friendship with Arthur and Merlin? Yes, he had to admit that Arthur had been his friend, though it took longer for Gwaine to consider him thus than he had with Merlin. He had wanted to find, and  _had_  found, true honor in the young Pendragon. But now…

_"I'm not saying your family is evil, Gwaine, but magic…"_

Magic. That bloody excuse again.  _But there is no excuse for what he said. He's made his mind up, and so have I._ "Yes," he said. "I meant all of it."

He  heard Aldwyn sigh. "So…you're banished. From Camelot."

"Yes, I am. But I've been banished before. From Camelot, and from multiple taverns."

Aldwyn scoffed. "You in a tavern brawl. Make that several tavern brawls. I can imagine that only too well."

" _Imagine_  it? That fistfight that broke out in the tavern the first time we got drunk on Midsummer's Eve was  _not_  a 'tavern brawl'?"

" _You_  were not part of that, Gwaine; I was."

"I was there!"

"Yes, throwing your guts up in a corner. And you were hardly drunk; you'd only had three pints! Four at most!"

"I was thirteen, Aldwyn. I hadn't built up a tolerance for alcohol yet. And I still think that someone laced it with something."

"Oh, 'someone with something';  _very_  specific, cousin. Anyhow,  _I_  was the one who ended up with a bloody nose, two black eyes, and a broken finger.  _You_  went scurrying home as soon as you saw the fight start."

"Didn't get very far before passing out, as I recall. But didn't your father keep you confined to your chambers for a week?"

He could almost see Aldwyn's grimace. "Ugh For someone who gets drunk at feasts all the time, Father reacted so badly to that. Maybe it was the fact that I was only fifteen…or the fact that I got drunk 'in public'…But it was  _your_  father I was terrified of. You should've heard his scolding."

"When did he scold you?"

"The next morning. I felt terrible."

"Why? Don't tell me that he threw something at you."  _Of course not, Father never does that. It's Uncle Harlan who throws things._

"No, he never even raised his voice. He wasn't even all that angry because I went to the tavern; it was the fact that I'd taken you with me that bothered him. I don't know if you can remember it well, but you were really sick afterwards. Uncle Goddard…he's has always had a knack for making a person feel guilty. If they deserve it."

_How much do you want to bet that he_ won't _try making me feel guilty for what I did?_

Aldwyn seemed to realize what he was thinking. "Don't tell me you're berating yourself about the accident again, Gwaine."

"Is that what you called it at home after I left? The 'accident'?"

He wished he could see his cousin's face right now; Aldwyn's expression might have prepared him for what he heard next. 

"Damn it, Gwaine, do you have  _any_  idea what it was like after you left? I didn't see Uncle Goddard smile for years and your mother…she was _lost_. Father kept smashing things and yelling at random people, Mother kept dissolving into tears at intervals, Haralda spent hours every day tearing practice dummies to bits with an ax, your sister wouldn't talk to anyone except your parents for about a year, and the twins…they didn't understand what happened, you know, and they kept asking where you were. And every time they did Great-Aunt Gytha would start crying and Mother would join her and Haralda would run off and Father would break something and they'd leave me to do the telling. I'd tell them some lie or other, but I think Everard always saw through it and eventually he told Elwin. Then they stopped asking, and as the years went by I thought they'd started to forget you. And I started to forget you…or thought I did…and it scared me. I couldn't talk to Father about you or he'd get angry. Mother would get sad. Gytha…sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. Haralda and Elen…they wouldn't even say your name. So in between smacking the twins into shape, I would tell them stories about you. They were the only people in our family who really didn't know what you'd done…until a couple years ago Everard demanded that I tell him what happened so I did. Elwin was there too, and it was the first time I saw him cry since he was a baby…and the last time, until a few days ago when those bandits attacked…But no, Gwaine, we didn't talk about what happened, just about the aftermath. We worked through it in our own ways…then we started to adjust to not having you around…it's funny, how we didn't even think of how we'd miss you until you were gone…and then life just went on without you there. And I'm grateful for that…time did make it easier in some ways. But at the same time, I hated it. Still do. You're my cousin. You…you were my best friend. I knew that your motives for being my friend were completely selfless, given the fact that you had nothing to gain. You were  _always_  there, my idiot, irresponsible, far-to-skillful-with-a-sword-for-his-own-good cousin. Then…you weren't."

The silence that followed Aldwyn's outburst lasted for a long time. Gwaine wanted to respond, but felt the need to think about it first. _Unusual for me_. Hesitantly, he said, "Aldwyn…I'm sorry." His cousin did not reply, so he continued, "I know it doesn't change what happened…nothing can. But I…I've been thinking…no, not exactly…what I mean to say is…I want to come home. Now that I know I'm not…not guilty of _that_ murder, like I thought I was…It's all I can think about. Home. For a long time…ever since I left…I'd thought I'd lost it forever."

"You were wrong. I…we want you back, Gwaine. No matter what happened…you still belong with us. With your family."

_Home. Family. I've still got those things. Strange._ "Good," Gwaine replied."Because as soon as we get out of here, we're going home. After we find Cleva and the twins, of course."

"If they don't run back home by themselves."

* * *

While traveling with wyverns and horses, there were two ways to keep one's horses from going insane: train them to stay calm while around the wyverns, or, if one didn't have time for that, keep the wyverns far, far away.

As Hayden and Ryle rode their borrowed mounts through the rolling hills and patches of woodland, the wyverns, per Hayden's commands, flew a short distance behind and about a couple hundred feet up. Hayden was aware that it had taken longer that Ryle wanted to get going, but he'd had to recover his hidden store of fish, find some weapons for himself, and decide on which wyverns to bring with him. So, yes, it did take almost an hour; the fact that all of the wyverns wanted to come at first hadn't helped one bit. Bringing them all was out of the question, especially with Peridot and Topaz.

In the end, he'd chosen Obsidian, Diamond, and Emerald. He hadn't wanted to bring Sapphire (fearing that he was too old), but the stubborn creature had followed him. So far it seemed like he was keeping up, so Hayden tried not to worry about it.

"How can they see us?" Ryle asked as they urged their mounts across a narrow stream. Dawn was approaching, but it was still very dark out. Hayden suspected that Ryle was using magic to lead the way back to 'Lord Haig's' castle. 

"I think that wyverns can see better in the dark than we can, and even if they couldn't, they have excellent senses of smell and hearing. They could find us anywhere." Hayden glanced upward and behind him; he could just barely make out the shapes of his wyverns suspended against the starry sky.

"And you're sure that if we order those things to attack Haig's men they won't start attacking people indiscriminately later?"

"Ryle, I've told you a thousand times, my wyverns do not have a taste for human flesh. They'll attack people they see as enemies, but they won't start hunting people because of it."

"I'm just making sure. But they'll be hungry, I suppose…" Ryle seemed to be having more and more doubts about using wyverns as allies.

"Didn't I ever explain wyvern digestion to you? No? Well, wyverns are very efficient animals in the respect that they eat only what they need to. My wyverns, who don't overexert themselves often, don't actually eat all that much. After this, they'll probably be starved and I'll have to find them some wild pigs or deer. But their activity controls their diet. It's how they can survive in places like the Perilous Lands where food is scarce."

"If you say so."

They lapsed into silence then, and Hayden recalled the rather confused tale that Ryle had told him a few hours earlier as they traveled.

_So the twins were rescued by Arthur Pendragon…who wanted to escort them back to Bernicia even though they didn't tell him who they were…then they found out that Gwaine Barclayn was a Knight of Camelot…which sounds wrong, but that aside…then Elen got herself captured by a crazy warlord, and Aldwyn, Cleva, and Ryle found the twins with the knights from Camelot, but they all stayed together…_ It was a mad situation, that much was certain. For some reason the part Hayden kept getting stuck on was  _Sir Gwaine of Camelot._

_A Barclayn becoming a knight of Camelot? It just doesn't make any sense…_ Especially since it was Gwaine. It was common knowledge that his mother was a sorceress whose family had died in Camelot's Great Purge. But Gwaine had changed his views on Pendragons…maybe. Or maybe it was all an accident?  _Either way, he and the rest are in trouble. I just hope that Haig's men aren't used to fighting wyverns…_ Hayden doubted that they were. Not many people were used to fighting wyverns these days. Or even seeing them. Hayden never got tired of the expressions on strangers' faces when they saw him with one or more of his pets in close proximity.

A while later, just as dawn had begun to lighten the sky, they stopped to let the horses rest. Hayden tethered his mount and moved far enough away from Ryle that he could call his circling wyverns down.

They landed and promptly began to vie for his attention, which just made him laugh. "Diamond, stop trying to eat my hair…Sapphire, there's no need to try to step on Emerald just because he's a little smaller than you…" He made sure that he petted and examined each one in turn; they all seemed to be holding up just fine.

"How do you tell them apart?" Hayden glanced over at Ryle, who watching him with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, come on, Ryle, you've watched them for me before. Can't you tell them apart? Ouch! Obsidian!" The large wyvern had given him a nudge on the shoulder that was a bit too forceful.

"The females have horns roughly half the size of the males' horns. And sometimes their overall size varies. That's all I know; I just feed the brutes when you're not around."

"It's easy once you get to know them really well." Hayden informed him as he scratched Sapphire on the crown of his head. "Take this lot, for example. Obsidian has unusually dark scales. Sapphire has crooked horns, as you can see, plus some of his scales are turning light grey since he's getting old. Diamond has an oddly narrow head, and his eyes are longer and narrower that most. Then Emerald has a greenish sheen to the scales on his sides and his wings…honestly, Ryle, I could go on an on." He refrained from adding that to him, the wyverns' faces were individually as distinct as any human's; that would just make Ryle declare him insane.

True to form, Ryle simply scoffed. "Whatever you say, Hayden. Let's start moving again."

* * *

Merlin was no stranger to sleeping on hard stone floors, but waking up on them was never a comfortable experience. "Ow…" he moaned as he slowly sat up and looked around.

Another set of cracks in the dungeon wall let in enough bright morning light so that the warlock could clearly see his companions in the cells around him. Elyan was waking up and Leon was stretching and wincing due to his bruised ribs. Arthur sat silently, watching the guards at the distant end of the passage. Looking over at the other two occupied cells, Merlin saw that Aldwyn was still asleep while Gwaine was talking to his still-unconscious sister, his words too soft to hear. 

"Good morning, everyone," Merlin said as he rubbed his aching neck. "Any great ideas about getting us out of here?"

"Good morning, Merlin, and no, not so far." Elyan grimaced as his back cracked loudly. "Sorry, but this is probably the most uncomfortable cell I've ever been in, and that's saying something."

"For all of us," Leon said.

Merlin turned to his cellmate. "How're the ribs?"

"No worse, thank God. Still not terribly comfortable, though."

Merlin winced in sympathy before glancing at Arthur.  _Maybe he has a plan…he usually does, though he always needs me to pull it off..._ The warlock was just about to make a smart-mouth comment to snap Arthur out of his brooding state when six guards detached themselves from the group at the end of the passage and approached the cells.

Gwaine had also noticed the guards. "Aldwyn, wake up!" he hissed.

The prince was awake in an instant. "What? Where…" He stopped suddenly as the guards reached the cells. One began to unlock the doors of the two cells containing Barclayns.

"Where are you taking them?" Arthur demanded as he lunged to his feet. The others did the same, though they were all helpless as the guards seized Gwaine and Aldwyn.

The guards didn't answer as they dragged the protesting and struggling men out of the cells. Another picked up Elen and slung her over his shoulder. Moments later, they were out of sight, and Merlin found himself wondering if they'd ever see Gwaine, Aldwyn, and Elen alive again. Elyan and Leon seemed to be having similar thoughts.  _Even Arthur looks worried._

"We need to get out of here." Merlin said.

He was right, but none of the others had an answer for that. 

* * *

Cleva could hear the voices in the clearing ahead as she let Percival, Everard, and Elwin take the lead. Even Elwin had far greater skill with a blade than she did.

After the skirmish the previous morning, Cleva had managed to find Everard, who had been working himself into a near-frenzy because he couldn't find his brother. They had located Elwin later that day; he had been hiding in a small cave with Sir Percival since the battle. According to the knight, he'd seen most of the others the others captured, though he was unsure as to the fate of Ryle. Cleva had no doubt in her mind that Ryle had escaped, but there was still the question of what would happen to the rest. Rescuing them seemed impossible. Not wanting to rush into anything and being lost as it was...Cleva felt like she'd been going in circles all day...they'd stayed the night at the cave. When dawn came, they set out towards where their friends were being held captive; Percival had seen the castle, but hadn't gotten too close.

Then, around midmorning, they had heard the unidentified voices.

Everard and Percival had drawn their weapons, with Cleva and Elwin following their lead. Cautiously, they approached the break in the trees where the voices were emanating from.

_It sounds like two people, maybe three…we could probably handle that, but…wait, what is that hissing noise?_

Ahead of her, Percival motioned for them to stop before moving forward a couple paces and peering around a tree trunk. What he saw obviously startled him, for he paled and quickly drew back towards the other three. Before he could say anything, however, one of the voices in the clearing rose to a near shout.

"Damn it, Hayden, what is the matter with your…creature? That's the third time it's started hissing in the last five minutes!  _I_  haven't done anything!"

_It's Ryle! And Hayden Wyverndomitor! And his wyverns…oh dear, no wonder Sir Percival's nervous._ Raising her own voice, Cleva called out, "Ryle! Hayden!"

"I wouldn't do that m'lady!" Percival whispered. 

"It's all right," Cleva tried to reassure him, but Elwin had already taken matters into his own hands. Sheathing his sword, he took off running into the clearing with Everard in pursuit. "Drat it, they'll scare the beasts," she said, hurrying after them. She heard Percival following her, probably still with his sword drawn.  _That won't make a great impression, either._

In the clearing, Ryle and Hayden were standing a few feet apart, staring at the newcomers. Behind Hayden, no less than four fully-grown wyverns were standing, eyeing the new arrivals and making threatening noises. Elwin and Everard stopped at the sight of them, no doubt recalling how volatile the scaly creatures tended to be.

"Oh, so there you lot are," Ryle said.

His tone was more than a little irritating, but before Cleva could make a retort Hayden ordered Percival to put down his weapon. "Look, I don't know who you are, but you need to put your sword away. You're aggravating my wyverns."

Percival obeyed, but asked confusedly, " _Your_ wyverns?" Turning to Cleva, the hulking knight demanded, "Who exactly is this and why is he with Ryle?"

Not wanting to waste precious time on detailed explanation, Cleva said, "He's a...a friend of Ryle's."  _Wait, aren't they related? I don't remember._ "He tames wyverns." Noting the befuddled expression on Percival's face, she added, "It's a family thing. I think. Ryle, why is Hayden here?"

"I asked him for help," Ryle growled. "I'd thought _that_ would be obvious."

"Help?" Everard said. 

"Yes. I followed our attackers and discovered that they work for the warlord Haig. Knowing that even if I found you we couldn't rescue the others, I…We needed help so I thought of Hayden. He was closest."

Elwin asked, "Who is Haig?" 

"And what does he want with us and our friends?" Everard said. 

_Friends? Does he mean Merlin and the others from Camelot? Well, maybe…_

Ryle looked annoyed by the questions. "He's some exiled noble or other, I believe. I'm not really sure what the entirety of his motivations are. But I do know that he will kill all of his prisoners if we don't rescue them.  _Soon_."

The urgency in his voice startled Cleva. She'd never thought that Ryle had it in him to be so concerned for anyone or anything.

As she eyed the wyverns...all of whom looked only slightly calmer without the presence of drawn weapons...she asked the group at large, "So what's the plan?"

Once they had decided on a strategy of attack and had begun the short journey to Haig's castle, Cleva distinctly heard Sir Percival mutter, " _Wyverns_. The others will never let me hear the end of this…but it's not like I have much of a choice…"


	25. Chapter 24

_"It's a shame that, the last time we saw each other, we parted on bad terms. I wished for days afterwards that I'd said something more than 'get the hell out of here'. It was so unexpected; we didn't have time to talk…it's just not fair. It all could have been over so quickly…if we'd spoken, just for a little while…about what happened ten years ago, about Father…maybe we could have parted amiably. Maybe we could've gotten the twins out of the city, gone home together. Things would be different. We might even be home by now…safe._

_"When I saw you in Haig's throne room, I felt so awful, not just because what he'd done to you, but because I should've prevented it. I don't know why exactly I feel responsible for you all of a sudden; it's always been the other way around, hasn't it? Like when you used to call me a 'young, irresponsible idiot'. And then I'd call you an 'ugly old toad'. Even though we're really the same age…okay, a few minutes apart, whatever…Just a joke, but we took it rather seriously back then, didn't we? We were so young…and siblings never seem to get along perfectly…not even Everard and Elwin._

_"We never got along half so well as they do, did we? You were always with Mother and her friends, learning about herbs and magic spells while I learning from Father or tagging along with Aldwyn and Haralda. When we were little, though…remember when we always seemed to have the same dreams? And then it just stopped…I used to know exactly what you were feeling, but that changed so long ago that I don't think I remember what that even felt like…ButI miss it. You know, I knew when you were in trouble, when you were captured and being harmed, but it wasn't…I did nothing. Now I feel so useless, and hopeless. Because…okay, I'll admit it, I'm frightened. That would probably make you laugh. Just a little. Because you're you._

_"But I'm in earnest here, Elen. I…Despite everything... after all this, I don't want to lose you. I can't lose my sister."_

As he, Aldwyn, and Elen were hauled up to see Lord Haig again, Gwaine reflected that he didn't know why he'd said those things and more, or even if he'd actually spoken all of them aloud. He only knew that at some point during the long night, he'd started _thinking_ about talking to his sister...and had begun to. Holding her close to him with one arm and grasping her hand, he allowed himself broken whispers of thoughts that, under any other circumstances, would never have been possible for him to reveal. Not to his sister. It just wasn't who they were. But he had dared to in that cell, even though he wasn't sure if she could hear him. He rather thought not.

Because Elen was dying. He wasn't stupid, and they had enough of a mental connection left for him to feel the life slowly ebbing away, as it doubtless had been for days now. It felt like a gradually draining pool of water, like a caged butterfly fluttering until its wingbeats weakened to nothing.

Gwaine could see no escape whatsoever, other than death. There were too few allies, too many enemies, no tricks or escape routes. Unless some miracle occurred, they'd all be dead very soon.

He was afraid, but more than that, he was sad. He felt a sense of deep melancholy as everything in his life, and Aldwyn's life, and Elen's, seemed to spiral to this one point in time in this one filthy castle. It all seemed so futile, like nothing any of them had ever done had ever meant anything or would ever mean anything save for boundless pain at the expense of their family, all to satisfy the petty revenge of one forgotten man.

_It's not fair. And, like so much else, doesn't have much meaning in the end._

This train of thought led Gwaine to such a place so that when the three Barclayn's were deposited at the feet of Lord Haig, all he could think was  _Will his revenge upon our family feel empty, in the end?_

Haig didn't seem to think so. "Well, well, here they are again, the filthy Barclayn brats."

"I think you need to work on your insults, Haig." Aldwyn remarked. He and Gwaine were on their knees before their captor, and Elen was again lying prone on the floor.

Gwaine really wished that his head was clearer; no sleep or food for a very long time wasn't helpful to one's mental abilities. Dredging up what he could of his characteristic gallows humor, he said, "So, My Lord, have you decided which delicious way you wish to slaughter us? I once knew this fellow who liked to…"

Haig signaled to one of the guards behind Gwaine; he didn't see the blow coming. It sent him sprawling from his knees to the floor, stars dancing in his vision. He registered a throbbing pain at the back of his skull. "Ouch," he groaned before he was pulled upright once more.

"I will have none of your smart mouth in here, Lord Gwaine," Haig said. "You'll have plenty of time to use that when you've lost a couple limbs."

"Ah, dismemberment. How _barbaric_ ," Aldwyn cut in.

Haig turned to the prince and growled, "I intend to flay you alive, Barclayn, until you cannot even imagine anything but the pain. But first, you're going to watch both of your cousins die. Very  _slowly_." Without further words, he turned and motioned to one of the dozen or so men in the throne room. The short, weedy soldier stepped forward wielding a relatively small but wickedly sharp axe. Haig looked, if possible, even more delighted than before. "Let's see, Raf, we should start wi…"

Outside, shouts rang out, along with the sound of weapons being drawn. Something large and black smacked into the outside of one of the open windows on the left wall of the room and rebounded off with a hissing shriek.

"What in the devil's name was _that_?" Haig bellowed, stumbling back and tripping over his cloak.

Gwaine and Aldwyn glanced at each other.

_Hayden._

* * *

The first sign of commotion down in the dungeons came in the form of a young guard hurtling down the steps at the end of the passage, screaming about monsters. The prisoners in the cells watched the other guards trying to calm their companion down with raised eyebrows. "Not very brave, is he?" Elyan said. 

Merlin grinned in reply, but Leon and Arthur remained sober as they watched the guards arguing. A few words drifted to their ears… _"That's absurd…What do you mean…Lord Haig ordered who…outside…attack… snakes with_ wings _?"_

The argument lasted until one guard looked up the stairs and shouted, drawing his sword, "Halt!" The others stopped talking and reached for their weapons as well.

" ** _Flíeh!_** " a male voice screamed from the stairwell.

The guards promptly went flying in all directions.

Recoiling, Arthur shouted, "What the  _hell_?"

"Magic!" Leon cried. 

_Magic…but who…_

The Ryle stormed down the last few stairs into the dungeons with Sir Percival right behind him.

One cursory glance around the dungeon and the dark-haired rogue shouted, "Where the blasted bloody hell are the Barclayns?"

"You're a sorcerer!" Arthur yelled back.

Percival, wisely staying silent, located a bunch of keys and hurried to open the cell doors. Elyan, Leon, and Merlin thanked him and stepped, but Arthur stayed right where he was, gaping at a frustrated-looking Ryle. "You have magic!"

"So what if I do? It's not like you liked me anyway! Now, _where are the Barclayns_?"

Arthur spluttered something along the lines of "Does no one tell me  _anything_?", then, seeming to realize that his cell door was open, strode out. "Get the guards' weapons," he ordered his knights, now ignoring Ryle. "Thank you, Percival, for coming back for us."

"Of course, Sire."

The king and his knights hurried to arm themselves for the imminent battle ahead. "Guards took Gwaine and the others." Merlin answered Ryle's question, as no one else seemed inclined to do so. "To see Lord Haig, I think."

With a wordless snarl, Ryle turned and bolted past the knights and back up the staircase.

Merlin stared after him for a long moment.  _He's a sorcerer? I should've known._ More pressingly, he wondered exactly how Ryle and Percival had gotten in to the castle in the first place.

_Snakes with wings, maybe?_

* * *

Lord Haig forgot about dismembering people for the time being as he began shouting orders at his soldiers. Most of them were sent out to investigate the source of the commotion... _"And find that bloody black thing!"_...Four men, including the axe-bearing Raf, remained in the room to guard the prisoners, all growing more nervous and agitated with every yell, metallic clang, and bestial shriek. Grabbing a wine flask, Haig sat himself on his throne and grumbled under his breath.

Kneeling was just getting painful for Gwaine...and doubtless Aldwyn, too...when they heard someone give a shout right outside the throne room's main door.

Startled, Gwaine twisted around just in time to see the weathered wood shattered and crumble to the floor in a cloud of dust. In strode Ryle, eyes blazing.

Haig let out a shout and leapt off his throne. "Kill him!"

Straight away, the guards drew their weapons and started forward.

" ** _Swilte!_** " Two were thrown backwards onto the ground, dead. Ryle gave a maniacal laugh. "" ** _Onbaerne!_** " Another man caught on fire. He collapsed to the floor, screaming. Raf dropped his axe and ducked behind Haig's throne, which had been vacated. The warlord escaped through a side door in the wall, narrowly avoiding the ball of fire Ryle sent his way.

Before the sorcerer could begin pursuit, Aldwyn shouted, Oi, Ryle! Untie us!"

Ryle's gaze landed on them, and on Elen. He hesitated, then moved to unbind their hands and help them to their feet. "Was that… _creature_  Lord Haig?"

_Now how does he know that?_ Gwaine decided that he really didn't want to know. "Yeah, that was him." As he knelt to check on Elen... _No change_...his nose wrinkled at the stench of burning flesh. _The still-flaming remains of the guard._

Aldwyn noticed it too as he took swords from the other two guards' bodies. "Can you put that out, Ryle? Now, where is…damn! How the hell did that scrawny axe-bearing bastard get out of here?" Raf had disappeared.

Ryle ignored the prince as he knelt next to Elen, but did extinguish the flames on the corpse with a wave of his hand. The stench remained. "How is she?" he asked.

Gwaine narrowed his eyes as he looked at the other man, but had no time to even respond to his question before Aldwyn was next to him. "I got you a weapon. Now grab your sister and let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

_How many times have we found ourselves running wildly along dark hallways, pursued by armed opponents?_ Merlin wondered.

They got lost rather quickly and ended up following Arthur around random corners and up and down narrow, crumbling staircases. The king behaved like he knew where he was going; Merlin suspected an act. _Oh, well, we'll probably get out at some point…_ They came across a intersection of two passageways and were surrounded by adversaries. Arthur began sparring with three at once, Elyan and Leon worked together to bring down several, while Percival began throwing his opponents against the walls. Merlin tried to stay out of the way, surreptitiously tripping a couple enemies with magic.

But when more soldiers flooded the passageway and the group from Camelot took off running, Merlin found himself fleeing from at least a half a dozen armed men alone.

_Oh, great. Well, at least I can use magic now._

He soon dealt with the men chasing him. But he was still lost.

* * *

Gwaine hurried after Aldwyn down the dimly lit staircase, slowed by the weight of his sister, who was slung across his left shoulder. "See anyone?" he whispered as his cousin skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

"Nothing. Let's hope our luck holds." Aldwyn glanced back at Gwaine, then frowned. "Where's Ryle?"

"Uh…said he was going after Haig. Since we're too busy getting Elen to safety."

Aldwyn grunted and began hurrying down the next passage. Gwaine followed.

_"Aren't you coming with us?"_

_"I'll go after 'Lord Haig'."_

_"Oh, I was hoping to come back later and fillet him myself…"_

_"I'll make sure he gets what he deserves. Take care of her."_

Gwaine felt glad that Aldwyn had missed that little exchange while scouting for enemies. He was still trying to understand it himself.

* * *

_Haig's men are idiots. They act like they've never seen a wyvern before. Even if they haven't..._

Still, most of them put up a fight. 

Ordering the wyverns to attack had been easy. Hayden had led them to a hill near the castle, pointed at some of the guards outside it, and let out the two shrill, high-pitched whistles that meant "attack". He used it on hunting trips.

The wyverns hesitated only for a moment. When the soldiers started brandishing weapons…well, it was pretty simple from there. Wyverns didn't appreciate having sharp, pointed objects waved at them.

Sapphire and Emerald were more than a match for the men at the gate, while Obsidian and Diamond soon began picking off the ones that were farther along the wall and those that fled. Hayden had been concerned when Obsidian had dodged a spear and had gone crashing into a wall, but the animal simply shook it off and chased down another soldier.

_I was worried about bringing them at all._ _Doesn't look like I had anything to worry about._

* * *

Merlin had found a way out: a tiny side door near what looked like the remains of the castle kitchens. Exiting, he found himself in a thorn-ridden thicket. To avoid being shredded, he ran beside the castle wall, heading towards the muffled sounds of battle.  _I've got to find Arthur and the others…_ He came around to a more open space in clear sight of the castle gates at stopped dead.

_I sort of suspected…but…Whoa._

No less than four fully-grown wyverns were attacking Lord Haig's men...and _winning_.

The largest wyvern kept his aim high, swooping down and disabling the men that were on the wall above the gate. Another wyvern concentrated on the men below, while two more circled, attacking those who tried to flee. As Merlin watched, the largest creature seized two soldiers at once and swung them heavily off of the wall before regaining its balance and sinking his teeth into third. The wyvern down below tucked in its wings and plowed into a row of five men, knocking them flat with what sounded like an elated shriek. A couple men escaped that and fled yelling in terror, only to be felled one at a time by the claws and teeth of the smallest, most graceful wyvern.

Even though Merlin had seen an actual _dragon_ in action, he couldn't help but be impressed.  _Especially if someone who's not a Dragonlord is controlling them._

He watched in admiration as the fourth wyvern, almost black in color, swooped down and picked up a man who had been running towards the woods and threw him into the nearest tree. The creature landed for a moment, regaining its stability. It shook itself, turned its head…and saw Merlin. Its reddish eyes narrowed and it let out a snarl.

_Uh-oh._

Growling, the wyvern leapt into the air, staying low as it swooped toward Merlin. Its jaws opened wide, displaying rows of razor-sharp teeth.

The warlock reacted without thinking. His mouth opened and a torrent of fiery words spilled out, asking…no, _commanding_ …the wyvern to stop.

Slowing its approach, the beast landed before the Dragonlord and quickly bowed its head.

Merlin let out a sigh of relief.  _Okay, Merlin, the wyvern's not attacking now, it's all good…_

Abruptly, the wyvern perked up. A low-pitched, three-note whistle sounded from behind Merlin.

He turned quickly as the wyvern slipped past him, moving to stand next to a slender young man with short, light blond hair and very dark grey eyes, which were wide in his pale face. As the wyvern approached him, he reached out and stroked it under the jaw, still staring at Merlin.

Merlin swallowed. "Uh…Hi," he stuttered.  _I'm just glad it's not Arthur or Leon or…_

"You're a Dragonlord," the man said.

"Um…yeah, but..." Merlin wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Suddenly, the other man's face broke into a smile. "I never thought I'd get to meet one." Stepping forward, he held out his hand. "Hayden."

Merlin grinned and shook Hayden's hand. "I'm Merlin."

"Nice to meet you. But…wait, Ryle mentioned you…Aren't you Arthur Pendragon's manservant?"

"Um, yeah." Merlin shrugged. "It's…he doesn't know."

"I'd hope not. Wouldn't make any sense." Hayden yelped as the wyvern nudged his shoulder. "Obsidian! Stop! Too hard! Sorry."

"Gwaine mentioned you."

"Oh, so you know Gwaine?" Hayden half-smiled. "He used to be a friend of mine."

"That's what he said." They simply stared at each other for a moment longer until they heard a shriek from above. Peering upward, they glimpsed the largest wyvern wheeling away from the castle wall, clearly in pain. On the wall, a solitary soldier began reloading a crossbow.

Merlin glanced back at Hayden fast enough to see the man's eyes harden. " _Damn_  him, if he's hurt Sapphire…" Looking to the blackish wyvern, Hayden pointed at the soldier and whistled twice, shrilly. While the creature leapt into the air, Hayden shouted, "Go get him, Obsidian!"

Seconds later, the man had fallen to his death off of the wall. The larger wyvern… _Sapphire_ , Merlin remembered…seemed to be managing to fly still despite any injuries he had sustained. Hayden let out a relieved noise and turned back to Merlin. There was a moment of awkward silence before he said, "I need to get to Sapphire. I suppose you have somewhere to be?"

"I have to find Arthur," Merlin replied. Then he added, "When this is all over…I hope we get a chance to talk. I mean, I'd like to know how you get wyverns to respond to whistles."

"Agreed, but what for? You can just talk them into submission!" With that, Hayden began to run along the treeline, calling for his wyvern.

A bit befuddled by the last few minutes, Merlin headed back towards the castle.

* * *

The battle was over by the time they got outside. 

Aldwyn had taken Elen a few minutes previously, so Gwaine was the first to leave the gates, picking his way through numerous dead bodies. He was confronted by a very large, very agitated wyvern. It… _no, it's a he, long horns, remember…_ promptly screeched at him and went to take his head off.

Then, Gwaine recognized him. He wasn't sure whether it was the face or the greenish scales, but he was almost certain that he knew which one of Hayden's pets this was.

" _Emerald!_ " he shouted, loud enough to make his throat hurt. 

The wyvern stopped dead and stared at him suspiciously.  _Aw, hell, I forgot how unerving those red eyes get…at least he recognized his name…I think…_ As the beast crept towards him, Gwaine called, "Aldwyn, I'd stay back if I were you!"

"What is it?" he heard Aldwyn shuffling around, then, "Oh, lord. Yeah, I'll stay back here."

Gwaine forced himself to hold still as Emerald started sniffing him. After a few long moments, the beast relaxed its posture. Heaving a sigh, Gwaine reached up to scratch the animal on the top of the head.  _Emerald always liked that spot best._ He still seemed to.

"Is it safe?" he heard Aldwyn say. 

"Yeah, I think." Gwaine tried moving past the wyvern and through the castle gates; Emerald followed him, and Aldwyn trailed behind with Elen. 

Outside, they found Cleva and the twins standing apart from three other wyverns. And with the wyverns was…"Hayden?" Gwaine exclaimed.

The blond man turned. " _Gwaine_?"

Gwaine grinned and gestured to the wyvern behind him. "This belong to you?"

"Emerald, there you are! Some idiot shot Sapphire; he's not badly injured but I had to check him over…"

"Aldwyn! And… _Lady Elen_?" Cleva hurried to the prince, who carefully laid Elen on the ground. The twins followed, but kept their distance. "What happened to her?"

"Some bastard named Haig happened. Former knight of Bernicia, apparently…to quote my dear cousin over there, he…'took honor a few steps to far'?"

Gwaine shrugged. His eyes found Cleva's, and they gave each other relieved grins as Aldwyn continued, "He was looking for revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Everard queried. "Ryle said something about it, but he couldn't tell us what it was all for…"

Gwaine suddenly felt very, very tired. "It doesn't matter." Ignoring the confused looks he was getting, he added, "Haig doesn't matter anymore. Without his mercenaries, he's nothing. Ryle's going to kill him, anyway."

* * *

Ryle didn't know what he felt when the spear went through his chest.

He'd felt pain before, the pain of severe injuries, even. But this…He felt nothing. Except pleasure.

Because he could see his killer's face. _Ironic; I'm my_   _own killer's killer._

" ** _Swilte._** " His eyes glowed gold...one final spell.

Ryle couldn't pretend that he knew what it had all been for, that he knew exactly which events had set into motion this pointless trail of revenge that ended here in this gloomy castle. Nor could he pretend that he did not feel harsh delight at the sight of Haig's terrified face as the warlord breathed his last.

In a way, Ryle could understand. His own path had been one of twisted loneliness and bitter regrets. But that was over now.

_Elen Barclayn will be safe. Her brother will see to it._

As the pain finally struck him and he fell one last time, he felt the taste of bittersweet victory.

* * *

Merlin managed, with his usual bumbling skill, to slip past the still-battling wyvern at the gates and back into the castle. He hadn't gone too far before he almost collided with Arthur and Elyan...apparently Leon and Percival had taken off running in yet another direction...but there had been no sign of enemy soldiers within the castle for several minutes, so Arthur felt confident enough to leave the building. "We'll assess the situation outside, regroup, and go back in to find Sir Leon and Sir Percival."

Once outside, the situation nearly took a turn for the worse.

"Wyverns!" yelled Arthur, raising his sword.

"Oh, for God's sake!" shouted Aldwyn. "They're on  _our_  side! Why do you think all the soldiers are dead?"

The wyverns had already drawn their own conclusions and had started snarling and moving to attack.

It took several minutes and the combined efforts of Hayden and Gwaine to calm them down, during which Arthur and Aldwyn decided to swear at each other in an exhausted fashion. And when everyone finally relaxed enough to talk civilly, the first person to speak was Elwin. "I suppose you have questions, Your Majesty?"

_I'd say he's toying with Arthur a bit. Probably trying to relieve the tension._ Merlin wished that it would. Things were certainly very tense. Cleva, the twins, and Aldwyn had taken up defensive positions around the limp form of Elen, while Hayden and Gwaine were still trying to keep the wyverns from doing anything unfortunate.

Arthur took a moment to respond to Elwin. "Yes, I have questions, but…I'm not entirely sure I want to know the answers." 


	26. Chapter 25

" _Pendragons,_ " Aldwyn said. "Stuck-up idiots…"

Arthur ignored him. "Okay, let's start from the beginning."

"Right now?" Cleva didn't like the way this was going.  _Elen needs help, and we're not going to get it by standing here and answering the questions of an irritated King of Camelot._

Arthur ignored her, too. "So, Aldwyn, Gwaine, and the twins are royalty. As is Gwaine's sister."

_Oh dear, he found that out, did he?_

"Why they hell didn't you tell us you were the sons of the King of Bernicia?" This inquiry was aimed at the twins.

Everard answered it with a glare and the words, "And what else? That our father allows magic-users in the kingdom? Or that we have a sorceress for a cousin? Would you have helped us then? Somehow I doubt it."

"It wouldn't have made  _that_ much of a difference! Sorceress cousin aside, it's not like you two have magic." Arthur sounded _sulky_.

"And what if we did? You'd have just accused us of 'conspiring against Camelot' or something similar and either thrown us out or chopped off our heads!"

"Everard, that's enough." Aldwyn's voice was quiet but clear as he, for once, took the side of diplomacy. Everard took a shuddering breath and stepped back to stand with his twin behind the older prince.

Arthur seemed to take that as a signal to continue. "And as for…Tell me, Gwaine, did 'Sir Gwaine' ever really exist, or were you just playing around?"

Cleva winced, but Gwaine didn't lose what was left of his composure. "I told you, Arthur. I hoped you were different. I was mistaken." Then he laughed. "Basically the last ten years of my life has been one giant mistake. Figures."

_Oh_ ,  _Gwaine…_

Arthur looked like he wanted to murder Gwaine on the spot, but instead asked, "All right, someone please explain those…those  _things_." He gestured towards the wyverns. "Sir Percival said something about wyverns, but as we were running for our lives at that point I might have missed something."

"These 'things' are _my_  wyverns." Hayden said levelly. "Ryle asked me to bring them. And they're the reason you're still alive. So if you have anything to say about them…" He was interrupted by Diamond, who started to nibble on his hair. "Ow! Drat, they're hungry."

Cleva sighed.  _Just what we need on top of everything else right now: hungry wyverns._

"Well, Arthur, you just broke one of the most important unspoken laws of the land," Gwaine said. "Don't insult Hayden's wyverns. It's right up there with 'don't wave swords at Hayden's wyverns'."

Before Arthur could come up with a response to that, a shout sounded from the castle gates. Turning, they beheld sirs Leon and Percival emerging, leading what looked like the the company's horses loaded with the company's packs. "Sire!" Leon called. "It seems that Lord Haig's men spent some time scavenging after the skirmish. Oh, those must be the wyverns you were talking about, Percival."

_At least someone's keeping calm,_ Cleva thought wryly.

The horses clearly didn't like the wyverns, so Leon left Percival a short distance away with them and walked closer. "Is everyone all right?"

"Except for Gwaine's sorceress sister, yes," Elyan replied.

Leon said to the group at large, "Before Percival and I found the stables and our horses, we came across Lord Haig."

"Where is he?" Aldwyn demanded, gripping his sword.

"He's dead," Leon replied. "So is that sorcerer Ryle. Looks like they killed each other."

Cleva was close enough to Hayden to hear his quick intake of breath. But his voice was steady as he said, "So you were right, Gwaine. Ryle did kill Haig."

_So I guess it's all over. Sort of._

Unless the Pendragons and Barclayns decided to start a war.

* * *

For the next couple hours, everyone worked together under an unspoken truce.

It was clear that the Barclayns and their friends wanted to go home to Bernicia; according to Hayden, they were presently near the northern border of Gododdin. Arthur and his knights wanted to go back to Camelot as soon as possible. That meant that most of them had to search through the jumbled mess the mercenaries had made of their belongings and figure out whose supplies belong to whom, and which horses, since Arthur wanted the animals from Camelot back from the Barclayns. In the end, it was decided that Hayden was going to walk back with his wyverns, while the twins took his horse and Gwaine took Ryle's. Arthur, the knights, Aldwyn, and the twins saw to that while Cleva helped Merlin with injuries and Percival opted to help Hayden bury Ryle. It seemed that the wyvern tamer and the sorcerer been distant relatives. No one suggested that they bother burying anyone else.

At present, Merlin was tending to Elen, with little result. Her injuries were too numerous, and she was so weak… _It's lucky she's as tough as her brother, or she'd be dead already._

He looked up as Gwaine crouched down beside him. "How is she?"

Merlin glanced around as a precaution before saying, "My ability to heal using magic isn't exactly that great. I've done my best; I think she'll make it long enough so that you can get her to a better healer, like your mother."

Gwaine nodded and said, "Thank you, Merlin."

"How're the wyverns?" Gwaine had been watching them while Hayden was otherwise occupied.

"They're hungry. Really,  _really_  hungry. Hayden said that he'll take them on a different route back home so they can hunt without interference."

A minute later, Percival walked past to join the knights. At Merlin and Gwaine's questioning gazes, he said, "He's up on the hill. Said he needed a moment."

Merlin stood up. "I'm going to go see if he wants to talk."

"I'll keep an eye on Elen and wyverns," Gwaine said.

"Are you sure you can do both at once?"

"If I need help I'll ask Cleva."

"Okay." Merlin headed up the nearby hill. He found Hayden standing by a newly-erected burial cairn, looking out over the surrounding forest. "Hey." 

"Hello, Merlin. I see that Gwaine is keeping my wyverns in line. For now."

They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes before Merlin ventured, "Who was he, exactly? To you, I mean. If you don't mind my asking."

Hayden shrugged. "I don't mind. He was a distant cousin of mine…and a friend. He'd look after the wyverns if I needed to leave for a while."

"Did you have any closer relatives that could do that?"

"Mother died when I was a child, Father passed away a few years ago. Any closer relatives…just don't like wyverns. Ryle doesn't…didn't, either. Or so he claimed. I suppose it was just another challenge for him; he liked to have something to do."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said after a few seconds.

Hayden shrugged again. "He…he never like sentimentality, Ryle. He would've wanted to be buried like this, somewhere that could be forgotten. Somewhere wild."

"He always struck me as having a rather…rough personality."

"He was what life made him. His entire immediate family was slaughtered in some blood feud when he was ten or eleven. Something to do with the clans in the northern part of Bernicia…It's often a complete mess up there. He…I don't think Ryle ever recovered."

"I probably wouldn't have, either." 

"Agreed. Still, he died a hero of sorts." Hayden didn't speak again for a while. When he did, he changed the subject. "You know, my grandfather claimed that he was descended from a daughter of a Dragonlord. I never knew whether to believe him or not."

Merlin laughed. "Either way, you certainly have a gift with wyverns."

"It's all about how you treat them. Tell me, have you met an actual dragon?"

"Yes, I met the Great Dragon. His name's Kilgharrah. He was imprisoned by Uther Pendragon, but I freed him." Merlin winced; he still didn't like to recall the results of that blunder. "I also hatched a baby dragon, once."

"Extraordinary. To see a dragon hatch…It was rumored that all the dragons were destroyed…but who knows? It's a big world. Where are the dragons now?"

"I'm not sure. They can't stay too close to Camelot…But I suppose you raise your wyverns from birth?"

"It works the best if you do. I have the most adorable one right now…Topaz. He's only a year old and about the size of a large cat."

"Sounds like a handful."  _I can't believe this; I'm standing in broad daylight, talking to someone about young wyverns._

"He's actually far better behaved that the last one; Peridot had a habit of flying off and hiding in trees. She's a little better about that now that she's older."

"You make her sound like a disobedient puppy!"

"It's the truth! I find wyverns preferable to dogs; I mean, can dogs fly?"

"Some people would see the flying as a problem."

" _Merlin!_ " Arthur's voice rang through the woods.

Merlin and Hayden exchanged glances. "It's probably time to get going," Hayden said. "I suppose this is goodbye."

"For now." Merlin grinned. "If you're ever passing Camelot, feel free to drop in and visit. Just don't bring your pets and make sure Arthur doesn't see you." Hayden laughed.

They shook hands and parted ways. Merlin hurried to find Arthur, while Hayden remained at Ryle's graveside a few moments longer.

Merlin reached the others to find everyone already prepared for departure. The knights were already mounted on their horses, while the group leaving for Bernicia were preparing to do the same. Merlin hurried to his animal.

"I see no need to linger here any longer," Arthur began to say, but was interrupted by Hayden's loud whistling from up the hillside. The wyverns perked up and launched themselves from the ground, flying to their master. When they approached him, he directed them through more whistling to fly in circles above as he joined the others.

Arthur watched with distaste before continuing, "So this is where we part."

Aldwyn, seated on his horse and holding Elen in the saddle before him, asked, "Is this…incident going to cause further conflict?"

Merlin mounted his horse. _Translation: Is this going to start a war?_

"I'm going to try to forget that it ever happened," Arthur said coldly. 

Merlin felt simultaneous relief and horror at Arthur's words.  _There'll be no war, but he'll never sanction contact with any of these people again._

He had barely even begun to consider the ramifications before Aldwyn replied, "So be it. Goodbye and good riddance, Pendragon." He turned his horse and spurred it to a trot.  Cleva, Everard, and Elwin followed him. Gwaine, however, hesitated.

Arthur wouldn't even look at his former knight as he led his knights in the other direction. "Are you coming, Merlin?" he shouted over his shoulder.

Merlin didn't make any effort to start his horse moving as Hayden spoke to Gwaine. "I'll expect you to come by and give me a full account of your adventures when this is over; right now I'd better hurry and find the wyverns something unintelligent to hunt before they decide that I'm not worth having around."

"You'll be alright?"

"Of course; I've got the best bodyguards in the world." Hayden gestured upwards before disappearing into the trees.

Gwaine and Merlin were left more or less alone. The former-knight made the first move, maneuvering his horse closer to Merlin's so they were face to face, he said, "So, this is it."

"Yes."

"Goodbyes are always rough, aren't they?" Gwaine said. "Especially when they're forever."

" _Merlin!_ " Arthur's voice drifted back to them.

Ignoring it, Merlin said. "One day, things will change. Arthur will see that not all magic is evil, he'll see that it can be used for good…Someday he'll understand why you did the things you did."

Gwaine almost smiled. "Perhaps. And on that day…or after it, I suppose…perhaps we'll meet again." He paused. "You've been a good friend, Merlin."

"Likewise."

They stared at each other in silence for a few long moments before gripping each other's hands one last time. "One day…" Gwaine murmured, then turned his horse and galloped off after his companions without looking back.

The warlock watched him for a moment longer before heading after the Knights of Camelot.

* * *

The ride to the city of Bernicia lasted until just past dark.

Gwaine alternated between panicking over Elen and silently mourning the loss of his friends. Saying goodbye to Merlin had been heart-wrenching, certainly; but it was Arthur's cold, silent dismissal that stung the most at present. Gwaine had seen the other knights, Percival in particular, shooting him apologetic looks. But he knew perfectly well that they didn't see him the same as they used to. None of them did.

_Does it matter? I'm almost an enemy now. Does it matter how they view me when I'll probably never see them again?_ Yes, it did. They'd been his friends, his brothers. It mattered to him.  _Arthur said he was going to try to forget the whole business. I doubt that's possible…for any of them._

Merlin wouldn't forget. He wouldn't even try to.

In his friend's eyes, Gwaine had seen the sadness of parting, but also the hope; the hope that the words he'd spoken were true, and that one day magic would return to Camelot. Gwaine wondered how many times Merlin had told himself that would happen.  _Many times, and nothing's changed...but he clings to it still._ And if Merlin felt that it was possible, it was probably more than just a fool's hope.

However, all thought of Camelot was driven out of Gwaine's head when he and the others crested a grassy hill and saw the city before them, rising out of the swelling hills and lit by moonlight.

Gwaine had spent his childhood mostly in two places: his father's castle further to the southeast, and in the city of Bernicia. Now, seeing the city again, threatened to bring tears to his eyes.

_Home._

The guards at the gates let them through as soon as they recognized Aldwyn and the twins. They rode through the darkened streets of the sleeping city in a flurry of thundering hooves. Almost before Gwaine realized it, they were at the gates of the castle.

"Where is the king?" Aldwyn shouted at the nearest guard.

"I believe he is in the council chambers, my lord!" 

"What, this late? Here, you lot, take Lady Elen to the court physician's chambers, and if Lady Ela is still in the city, fetch her too." As four guards hastened to obey, Gwaine made to follow them, but was stopped by Aldwyn's hand on his arm. "Cleva will go with her. You come with me and the twins."

Unsure why Aldwyn insisted on this but unwilling to argue, Gwaine turned to the lady in question, who nodded. "Go with the princes; I'll make sure she's tended to."

The twins, though exhausted, led the way to the council chambers, obviously delighted to be home. The head guard hurried just behind them with Gwaine and Aldwyn. "The king had pressing court business with his advisors to attend to this evening, I believe, which is why he is there so late…"

Walking down the painfully familiar halls, Gwaine found it hard to process anything including what the guard was saying. His pounding heart felt like it was trying to leap out of his throat.  _So close…_

They burst into the council room without waiting to be announced or even knocking.

" _Father!_ " Everard and Elwin shouted at the top of their lungs as they ran to the king, whose beard was longer and somewhat greyer than Gwaine remembered and who knocked over a table and three chairs in order to get to his sons.

"You young fools!" he bellowed even as he pulled them both into a tight embrace. "Were you trying to kill me before my time?"

Aldwyn and Gwaine moved further into the room, which was in an uproar as King Harlan's advisors all stood and started talking at once. Many of them were staring at Gwaine, which made him... _uncomfortable_.

"And _you_!" roared Harlan, catching sight of his eldest son over the twins' heads. "Get over here, now!"

Aldwyn looked like he wanted to drop dead, but instead threw his shoulders back and strode bravely to meet his father, who yanked him into a fierce hug as well. "Disobey my orders again and I'll disown you!"

"That's what you always say," mumbled Aldwyn, who, despite age and dignity, didn't seem too upset about being hugged.

His father smacked him...lightly...for the comment. "Someone fetch the queen! And Princess Braeden! And my daughters! And Aunt Gytha! _Now_!" Several guards went scurrying off before he could tell them to hurry up. "Where the hell were you? All of you?"

"It's a long story." Aldwyn hastened to say. "Cousin Elen is…injured; Lady Cleva's with her…"

"You sent them to the physician? Did you ask them to find Ela?" 

" _Yes_ , Father, I am not stupid."

"Hmph, of course not, just disobedient." Harlan loosened his grip on his children and looked around the room. "Who is this?" he pointed at Gwaine, rudely, but that was normal behavior for Harlan. Gwaine was more concerned with the way everyone in the room began to stare at him, rather than just half. He was at loss for what to say.

The twins looked just as bewildered as to what to do, but Aldwyn tried to help him out. "Um…this…er, Father, do you… _recognize_  him?"

"Gwaine." It wasn't Harlan who spoke, but the entire room fell silent at that single word.

Gwaine's gaze moved to a table in the corner of the room, at which was seated the only person who hadn't stood at the arrival of the princes. He stood now, slowly, his features lighted by a torch in a wall bracket beside him.

He had changed physically more than Harlan had. His long hair and shorter beard had almost entirely faded to grey, his shoulders were stooped and he looked, overall, much, much older. But it was him.

Gwaine found that he couldn't move, though at the same time he didn't want to, as if this was a spell that could break if he dared to try.

"What?" Harlan croaked, shocked out of using his customary shouting voice.

The man from the corner stepped forward, ignoring the king's confusion. "Gwaine," he said again, more gently this time, rather like he was trying to calm a skittish horse.

It worked, though. Gwaine regained control of his limbs and stumbled forward, forgetting propriety, forgetting the spectators, and not caring about anything but the fact that his father was alive and _right there._ Goddard didn't say a word as he pulled his son into a tight embrace that lasted a very long time. And as Gwaine hugged him back, he allowed himself to cry.

Later, they would have to talk. He'd have to try to explain everything that had happened. He'd have to accept the consequences. He'd have to readjust to life here, to find his own place. _Later_.

Right now, Gwaine was just fine with being nothing more than a lost child returning home.

* * *

"Merlin, are you going to eat your chicken or do I need to save it for tomorrow?"

Merlin looked up from his plate,giving Gaius a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, Gaius, I was just thinking."

"Ah. About Gwaine, I suppose."

Merlin nodded and looked back down at his plate again.

The trip back to Camelot had gone without further incident, save for a run-in with a bear and one of the horses falling into a river. They'd returned to the city the previous afternoon. Everyone had been happy to see the king return mostly unscathed, but confused at Gwaine's disappearance. To Merlin's knowledge, only Queen Guinevere and Gaius had gotten the full story. Arthur had told the other knights that Gwaine turned out to be a Bernician and had decided to stay in that country rather than return. Beyond that, Arthur said nothing. He refused to even acknowledge any mention of Gwaine afterwards.

Gwen had been startled to learn of Gwaine's heritage, but hadn't criticized Arthur's decision to forget about it. Though she'd told Merlin, "We really should've suspected something. He was so uncomfortable around Everard and Elwin and they were similar in appearance…" 

Gaius, of course, hadn't been surprised about any of it, since Merlin hadn't exactly hidden the facts from him before he left Camelot. But now, over dinner, he had a revelation to make. "Merlin, you said that at some point Gwaine mentioned his mother's name in passing…"

"Yeah, he said it was Ela. I told you that, right? And how she fled the Purge…"

"You did." Gaius sighed and leaned on the tabletop. "Well, Merlin, I've been casting my mind back almost thirty years, and I distinctly remember a gifted young sorceress with healing skills who was living in the Lower Town. She studied with me sometimes…Her parents had died, and she was taking care of her younger siblings. All three had magic, and sometimes when she came to learn from me she brought them along. They were all very kind and sweet children…in the beginnings of the Purge, Uther's men got to them before she or I could. I saw her only once after they were killed, just before she fled for her life…I have never forgotten the fury in her eyes, nor will I be able to."

"Gwaine's mother…" Merlin said. "It's extraordinary…after everything his mother went through here…things he knew about…he served a Pendragon."

"He did what he thought was right," Gaius said, "Just like Arthur is doing what he thinks is right." When Merlin did not respond, the old physician said gently, "You may see him again, Merlin."

Merlin nodded, gazing at nothing. "I hope so," he said. "Someday."

_When things are different._


	27. Epilogue

He'd almost forgotten how beautiful Bernicia was. The view from the highest castle balcony was stunning, even at nighttime.

The land of Camelot had its open places, but most of the country was covered in forests of various density. Bernicia's landscape consisted of lofty highlands, with narrow strips of woodland running between towering moors. The land was as wild as its people....or perhaps the other way around. He'd missed the vast open hillsides, the stony brooks, the familiar touch of the never-pausing wind.

He felt like he could breathe here.

_Four months._ That was how long he'd been home now. At times it felt like he'd never left, like the ten years of wandering, drinking, and fighting, alone and alongside the King of Camelot, had never happened.

Then he'd meet an old friend in the market, or see a unfamiliar building along a familiar road, and it would hit him again like a physical blow, just how long he'd been gone. It especially hurt to see his old family home; all of the apple trees he remembered as saplings had grown into maturity. However, it did help a little to see that the eldest trees were virtually unchanged by only ten years.

From people in general, there were looks, speculative looks, confused looks, even angry ones. At first there had been speculation over  _who_  he was. Before long, as word had spread, it had turned into speculation over  _where_  he had been. He told himself that he didn't care. To prove it, he didn't try to hide where he'd been. If someone asked, he told them.

The real whispering had started shortly after the stares. Rumors began to circulate, even more numerous now that they could be at least partly based on truth.

_Been in the south, he has…Spent a couple years in Camelot, I heard…Drinks like a fish, they say…He was a Knight of Camelot? Ha!_

He'd been afraid of words like "traitor" for a while. But that had mostly taken care of itself when he admitted, more than once, that he felt no loyalty towards Camelot or King Arthur. _Not anymore._

_"If I did, you'd think that I would've stayed there!"_

Still, gossip ran wild. And he did care.

What saved him was the fact that he had much more pressing things to worry about, like struggling to adjust to Bernician life again, keeping away from the tavern, and dealing with his family.

His uncle had wanted to throw him in the dungeons at first. The bit about being a Knight of Camelot really hadn't gone over well; thankfully his father had managed to talk the fuming king out of it. His aunt and great-aunt had fussed over him. His eldest female cousin had tried to take his head off with a throwing axe. His youngest female cousin had been absolutely terrified of him. His other aunt had come thundering in from the next kingdom the minute she learned of his return and had scared him and the rest of the castle residents nearly out of their wits. His father…what he had done to his father still hurt, though the older man made it more than clear that it didn't have to matter, that they could forgive and move on. He tried, but the guilt of years did not fade away overnight.

Meanwhile, his mother had gone between scolding him viciously and, well, mothering him...which was nice...when she wasn't tending to his sister.

She would survive, though it was unclear if she'd ever recover fully. Relieved that she would live, it still pained him to see her now. Every time he saw her, spoke to her, she seemed so empty. And when he tried to feel through whatever connection they had…she seemed empty there, too. It was more than her agile mind and quick wit that seemed absent; it was something that shouldn't just be able to up and disappear. In her present state, he wasn't even sure that she noticed it.

He did. And it terrified him.  _Best not to think about it too hard. It's nothing; I'm sure there's a simple explanation._   _Well, okay, when is anything ever simple with magic? Case-in-point: Merlin. But Merlin aside...Maybe I should ask Mother about it. She'd know._

Tonight, as he headed down a curving staircase in the direction of his chambers, a flickering torch in a corner caught his eye. While he was still gazing at it, the weak flames leapt up and seemed to change color. He jumped back so violently that he collided with the nearest wall. And when he looked at the torch again, it seemed perfectly normal.

Forcing himself to not panic, he continued on his way. He spent the next few minutes convincing himself that it was nothing.

_Just a trick of the northern wind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sequel will be up as soon as I can get around to it. Be prepared for more drama, more battles, and more people running around Albion like it's that acre of woods at your friend's house. Also, it's forty chapters long.  
> If you enjoyed this story, thanks for sticking around and feel free to leave a comment! :)


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